


Secrecy and Sorcery in Surreptitious Seductions

by wolfofwinterfell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Death Eaters, F/M, Hogwarts, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 00:26:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14944167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfofwinterfell/pseuds/wolfofwinterfell
Summary: He hasn't ever been one to sleep around with just anybody, and she hasn't ever been one to stray from her marriage vows. That all changes one winter night. Contains everyone's dark favorites - Severus, the Malfoy family - Narcissa, particularly - Bellatrix, and more.This is a collab piece with my dear friend, mrs. milfoy. (Begins in Order of the Phoenix)





	1. Chapter 1

The ball was certainly a hit, full of the sounds of clinking of glasses as people reached for more drinks and of the murmurings of the same people. Every few minutes, laughter would echo around the manor and then simmer down again. In a little while, the music would begin, and after that, there would be a speech and then food, followed by more dancing and more drinking. And Severus Snape could care less.

He stood outside the building, arms crossed in front of his chest, wishing he could avoid going in. If it weren't for the fact that his presence had been requested, he wouldn't have even bothered leaving Hogwarts. There were essays he needed to grade, potions from his upper level classes that he needed to examine, plus detentions that needed to be filled. Oh and there was a meeting with the headmaster slated for an upcoming day. The drudgery of the school went away somewhat during the Yule holidays, a thing he welcomed, but those weren't due to begin for another week…and he had hoped to use the work that he needed to get done prior to their start as an excuse to be absent from the traditional event the Malfoys' held.

Alas, it didn't work.

It was in that manner that he came to be at the manor, watching the lights play out over the scenery before him. The snow laid in high enough blankets where the grass was, though the pathways were completely dry. If the muggles knew the wizarding tricks to shoveling, magic might be envied just a little more. Severus was quite glad that he didn't have to worry about ice – there'd be plenty of that to be had inside.

He was about to resume walking when he heard footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Crabbe and his wife approaching, with Yaxley close behind them. They had obviously been at the party for a while, as both weren't as steady on their feet as they usually were. Neither said a word to the tall man they passed, and he stayed silent too, narrowing his eyes as he watched them.

"Late too, Snape?" Yaxley stopped walking, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his robes to keep them warm.

He began walking, bridging the gap between himself and certain boredom, and then responded to the other man. "For reasons better than yours, I am sure."

"Reasons such as not having a date? It's hard to dance at a ball when you don't bring one."

Severus cut his eyes to the man keeping pace with him. "Unless she's wearing an invisibility cloak, I see no woman at your side either. And I don't dance."

Yaxley looked abashed for a second, and then couldn't contain a tiny grin. "Yes, well, you know how these balls go. Everyone shares."

Severus just shook his head and entered the manor. Bellatrix was the first to see him, her expression turning surprisingly gleeful when she noticed the man at his side. She grinned manically and rushed over to them, letting out a cackle. "Snape, I adore your date! I didn't realize you've finally come out of the closet!"

"You missed it while you were in Azkaban, dear Bella." His voice was thick with sarcasm and an abundance of annoyance. It was well-known that he and the crazy witch were barely on good enough terms to be in the same room, but it couldn't be said that he had tried to make things work out between them.  _He_ at least was civil, holding his tongue most of the time (if their master was around). She was a different matter, acting like a barbarian, making little to no sense. "I can't help but notice that you don't have anyone on your own arm. Perhaps you'd like to take Yaxley? He does so love to talk."

The witch gave the wizard beside Severus a slight wink, looking him up and down. "Alright, just for you. Maybe he'll tell me about your relationship?"

Yaxley gave Severus a look. "You expect me to pretend that I fancy blokes and we're…together?"

He shrugged. "She knows neither is true, but Bella will be Bella. If she can give someone hell, she will." He looked to the witch, who winked at his statement. "I assume it is safe to say I will see you again before the night is out. Try not to go too hard on Yaxley; he may not be able to stomach it." And then she was gone, pulling the shorter man with her, and Severus was left alone again.

Spotting a table set with goblets, he sped toward it, grabbing the first one within his reach. Without bothering to sniff it or look at it first, he lifted it to his mouth and downed the whole thing. It burned going down his throat, but he wasn't complaining; this burn was a good one, unlike the one achieved by anything besides the best firewhiskey. Eying the table, he surveyed what else there was. Butterbeer, mead, vodka in the bottle so people could mix it with what they wished, a pumpkin flavored…something that he didn't care to try, and an assortment of elven brews.  _'And to think that this isn't even beginning to tap their stores…'_

He selected the last goblet he saw that contained his favorite elf-made wine, then turned from the table to retreat to a pillar. That was normally how he spent these wearisome events; drinking and standing alone. Every now and then various people would come by and speak, normally asking if he could brew them a potion to help with some problem or another. Lucius almost always came over when he was ready for a break, and Narcissa could usually be counted on to engage in conversation toward the end of the night. The balls that Draco was allowed to attend, the young wizard normally just stood with his professor.

Tonight, though, everyone was staying away from the side of the great room he had chosen to occupy, and he was perfectly okay with that. He sipped his wine, alternating between watching dancing and men who slinked off with wives of other men and then reappeared a little while later. Just after seeing Lucius take off with his second woman of the night, he looked back to the dance floor to see a woman heading toward him – but she wasn't just any woman.

She was tall and slender, her body perfectly formed and her beauty exquisite. Her black dress clung to her in all the right parts, showcasing her curves at their best. The dress was beautiful, simple, but also aggravating. It had no color besides black, any sequins or glitter, or embroidered designs. Elegant, sophisticated, just like her. It was floor length, pulled in at her trim waist, with a V-neck that started just below her breasts. The material covered her enough to be considered decent, but revealed just enough to make a man want to see more. And when she paused on her way toward him, turning around because she heard somebody call her, he felt his trousers growing tighter. The back was simple too, with the fabric forming an "x" across her skin. It was higher up, around her shoulder blades, and there wasn't a shred of fabric from there to the end to of her back. Oh how he wanted her. Finally, she turned back around. Her very movements spoke of regality and refinement, of being the best.

No, Narcissa Malfoy was not just any woman.

"Severus! I'm glad you could make it." She flashed him a smile as she stopped before him. "Lucius said that you were afraid you may have had another commitment."

He took another sip of wine, and then rewarded her with the tiniest of smiles. "And miss seeing you, Narcissa? I'd hardly dream of it." He stepped back from his pillar to regard her again, then took her left hand and kissed it gently, noticing as he did so that she wasn't wearing her ring. "You are stunning, as always."

She blushed, her pale cheeks coloring, "A gentleman, as always. You flatter me." She shifted slightly, looking at him. "You look well."

He nodded, about to say that she did too, but he knew that he would be speaking a lie. She was trying to do the typical Malfoy thing by pretending everything was normal, but he could see the pain lurking in her eyes and the ghosts that were causing it. "How are you, really?"

She eyed his goblet. "Is that firewhiskey?" A drink she preferred to avoid. Not good.

He eyed her. "Is it really that bad?"

"I saw him. Both times, with those girls."

"It's wine." But he offered it to her, watching as she tilted it to her mouth and then watching her throat as she swallowed.

"Thank you." She moved her wrist, examining the red liquid. "This one's your favorite, isn't it? I had it brought up, hoping you'd come."

"Yes, it is. I'm flattered that you would think of me." There was drop of wine on her lips, lips that were made to be kissed, and he couldn't seem to take his gaze off of them. His groin ached more as he imagined stepping forward, bending his head down...

"I always do when we host anything. You're the only one who understands the displeasures of attending something you don't feel comfortable at." She took a step closer to him.

He raised an eyebrow slightly. "You don't feel comfortable at these functions? You've never mentioned that before."

She sighed. "Everyone else is allowed to have a good time – you know that nobody stays loyal when we host one of these Death Eater balls. Nobody except me. Lucius would murder any man who dared lay a hand on me, even though he doesn't want to touch me. He doesn't understand why his dalliances bother me."

Her voice wavered toward the end. "Narcissa," his tone was surprisingly gentle. "You shouldn't have had to see that." A slow song began playing. Taking the goblet back from her, he set it down and then pressed her against him. "Here, let's dance."

If she was surprised, she didn't show it. "You hate dancing." It was a simple statement that had a question swimming in its undercurrent. She wanted to know why he was doing it.

"You're supposed to dance at a ball. That's the whole purpose of one."

"Yes, typically with your date…"

"Then that must make you my date." He was surprised that he said it, surprised about all of this actually.

"Well, then. If you're my date, does that mean this is okay?" She pressed every inch of her softness against him, resting her chin on his shoulder. He murmured something unintelligible, settling his hands more firmly upon her, and she found herself smiling. "I thought you might say that."

The music grew tuneless, monotonous, droning. Eventually, it seemed to disappear entirely. All Narcissa could hear was the whoosh of her blood circulating hot through her veins, and the pounding of her heart beating for the first time in months.

The stiffness of Severus' starched cuffs contrasted sharply the softness of his fingers flexing occasionally against her bare back. And every once in a while, a wool-covered button scratched the revealed skin of a neglected breast. His dark eyes were upon her. She could feel them almost palpably roving over her body, but she avoided meeting them with her own. She might have been losing her mind, and seeing desire reflected back at her would push her over the precipice.

Plus, there was her husband…

"Having fun, kiddies?"

Cissa's head turned to catch her sister's glinting, mocking eyes. "Bella!" She blushed despite herself.

The darker witch chuckled, urged Yaxley to spin her out and back in. "I'm having a ball, Cissy!" Bella cackled at her own pun. "Are you?"

Subtly, Narcissa pressed her body to Severus', hoping to urge him away from the intrusive couple. Instead, she was treated to the firm evidence of his arousal pressing above her hip. "Oh." She couldn't contain the utterance. His hand tightened on her back, and the one leading her edged them to the left, opposite Bella and Yaxley. Slightly stunned, she followed the lead, wide-eyed and tense.

Bella's laughter followed them. "Hell! You even billow when you dance, Snape!" Yaxley joined in her manic giggling.

"It can't be surprising," Severus murmured.

She swallowed, wishing her mouth wasn't so suddenly arid. "No. My sister is notorious –"

"I don't refer to your sister."

"Oh." Was that all she could say? Between her fierce flush and her moist knickers, she couldn't seem to form a cogent response.

"Your husband is quite preoccupied."

"Oh?"

"Narcissa. Look at me." The hand on her back tightened further, and she couldn't help suddenly imagining it on her bare thigh. She gathered her strength…and looked up.

'Damn his parents for making eyes that dangerous,' she thought. "What?" She whispered.

He'd danced them into a darkened corner of the dining hall, shadowing his face and looking either demonic or angelic. "Let me have you tonight."

"Severus." Her throat threatened to close. Something salacious slithered into her belly and coiled up, prepared to strike. "Lucius…"

"Is absent." Snape's chin rose stubbornly. He was slowing their dance. "Again," he added with a devilish smirk.

"Don't humiliate me," she snapped. The old defensiveness could rear its ugly head most unexpectedly and unwelcomely.

"I assure you that's the last thing I wish to do to you."

Oh, how she wanted… "Dammit, Severus! Ooph!" A wall was hard at her back, and Snape was hard at her front. "Don't! Please!" But she was already melting.

"Don't what?" He was barely bottled restraint raising her arms above her head. "Don't stop? Or don't continue?"

Her mind was shutting down. She could only splutter helplessly. "But… I can't… you… Continue…"

"Excellent choice." And before she could protest or realize her slip, his mouth arched roughly across hers and the spring in her belly released.

She groaned with abandon into his mouth. His tongue stroked hers possessively and his hands clutched hers above her head. She broke away, needing air, needing sense, needing… "Let me go! I need to hold you!"

His chin rested atop her head, fast breaths huffing into her neatly bunned hair. He didn't release her arms, though. "Here?" He asked. He thrust a generous hardness against her belly as if in threat.

"NO!" She yelped too loudly. She was Narcissa Black Malfoy, by the goddess, and she was still witch enough to maintain propriety even when her very sanity was under carnal duress.

Her arms were lowered slowly, but not released. "Then you have approximately thirty seconds to take us somewhere…private." His lips dipped to her ear and his voice dipped to the octave below safe seduction.

She nodded, knees shaky. "Come on."

Her heels ticked a quick stoccato on the dim marble stairs and she pulled him along behind her. Her heart hammered and a thin sweat broke over her shoulders. She was shaking with nervousness, anticipation and a healthy dose of fear. 'Lucius will murder you if he sees,' she thought. 'Foolish fucking witch! You hardly know this wizard! And he's still a Death Eater! No better than the others.'

The manor's third floor was completely deserted. It was hardly used, anyway – save for when the Dark Lord called on  _all_ of his followers. In the empty silence, she shut off her conscience. It was easy to do when a wanting wizard was trying to press her through the door she chose. "My wand!" She gasped. His hands were already searching out the secret to her dress' dismissal, and the ebony shaft that answered to her was nestled snug against her thigh.

"Where?" He growled into her neck.

Her arm struggled from his embrace to reach for her leg, but he was quicker. A rough hand rucked up her dress, and met hers in a fight over flesh and magical wood. She managed to pull it from its holster, but seized when his fingers found her sodden crotch. "Ah!"

"Ah, indeed," he oozed. "Open the goddamn door."

Her hand trembled as his fingers explored forbidden territory. "Aloho- OH!" She gasped. A ripping sound was heard, and he was fingering her in earnest. "Oh, Severus…" Her bones were disolving.

He nudged the neckline of her dress aside and nipped at a pebbled nipple. "Door."

"I can't!" Couldn't he tell he was destroying her?

A strange calm settled. His free hand curled around hers, gripping her wand with her. "Shhhh." He soothed her. Kissed her sweetly. She whimpered. "Now."

"Alohomora." They spoke together.

The door opened. They tumbled inside. Severus kicked it closed and was swiftly attacking the clasp at her neck again. "Take it off," he hissed. "Or I'll tear it off."

She tossed her wand to the great bed behind them and reached for the intricate clip on her dress. Severus dropped to his knees before her like a penitent. But far from a penitent man, he was a most sinful one, tugging down the tattered knickers of his associate's wife. He felt the ties of her frock fall against his hair and pulled it down as well.

She was naked when he stood, preciously pale and bare save for a black leather wand holster on her right thigh. Her arms were crossed over her chest. He shook his head, pulling them away. "Don't be modest, witch. You know you're gorgeous."

She licked her lips as he backed her to the bed, feminine fingers fussing with his many buttons. "Why?" She snarled. "Why so many buttons?" Her knees hit the edge of the bed and her hands reached the edge of patience. She simply yanked. Hard.

Woolen buttons scattered with a clatter over the wooden floors. Even in the low moonlight, she caught the serious glint in his eyes. "Eager?" He asked, shrugging out of the frock coat.

"Damn you," she snatched his shirttail from his trousers. He chuckled low in his throat, molesting her unapologetically while she struggled with his trousers and cravat. Finally near enough to naked, he crawled over her, pushing her into the thick feather mattress.

Narcissa whimpered and mewled, arched into his curious touches and teasing tongue. He toed his boots off and took hold of her knees, bent to cradle him. There was a moment witnessed only by the stars in the undressed windows – the moment when two souls clothed only in desire and silver light paused to regard each other; the moment when one more heartbeat, one more touch, one more kiss means the difference between transgression and regression; between taking and letting go.

Amidst heavy breaths, a calloused thumb sweetly stroked the witch's swollen, wet folds. Her hand wrapped with wonder and anticipation around the wizard's ample erection. They lunged hungrily, chose transgression; in their own wild ways, they took and let go at once.

She could tell he was holding back. Probably her fault, as it had been some time, and she was uncomfortably tight and whingey. "Oh, gods!"

"Narcissa," he hissed her name like a supplicant, a beggar. She softened in response, relaxed around the satiny steel inside her.

"Severus." They fell to kissing, moving as one. His hands, his very body spoke of a manliness she'd missed without missing. His mouth and his cock woke her dormant desideration. Her release loomed like a phoenix rising. "I'm so close," she gasped.

"Thank the gods," he answered. His teeth were clenched.

His hair hung against the sides of her face, brushing as he thrust. He stared at her unrelenting as if his eyes could eat her lust up. Perhaps they did… She held his head in her clawing hands, tangled the inky locks round her fingers. Planting her heels in the bedding, she shifted her pelvis up. "There! Yes, yes!" And oh, yes…  _That_ was pleasure. "Faster! Harder!"

He didn't make her beg, just groaned into her neck and snapped his hips like a whip until they both cried out. She rippled round him - the surface of a lake disturbed, and he shattered - a vessel of fragile glass, spilling his seed and his strength inside her. Their magic surged, mingled – a feeling with which Severus had little experience and Narcissa had distant memories.

Floating to earth like feathers, their desperate clutches turned to sweaty caresses. Severus rolled them, bringing her flush with his chest. He brushed fingers lightly over her back and buttocks, making her sigh in contentment. Reluctantly, he spoke. "You should return to the ball."

She groaned displeasure at the idea, but knew he was right. "I know."

"Lucius will be seeking you out. He can't know. I would…worry."

She nodded against his sticky chest. "I don't suppose this can happen again, can it?"

"It can't?" He tilted her chin up. "I try not to consider impossibilities prematurely."

Her eyes moistened. "Thank you. For so much."

He kissed her, closed his eyes. A very small regret tinged his words. "Don't thank me."

She returned to the party first, charms having brought her back to an illusion of normality. She caught sight of her husband dancing with her sister and felt a little bile rise up in her throat. Then she caught sight of Severus, entering the hall from the eastern archway, and the bile turned to triumph. One little victory…and one great pleasure. She hoped deeply it wouldn't be the last.


	2. Chapter 2

It was truly a miracle that he managed to return to the school in the wee hours of the morning without splinching himself. He was drunk, though not on what anyone would think – it was not a beverage that had managed to control his mind, ensnare his senses. He knew how to brew glory, bottle fame, and even how to put a stopper in death, but he didn't know how to ease the hangover left by a woman. He  _did_ know how to ease himself into the world of a dreamless sleep – but that was hardly what he wanted. He had been dreaming of her for the past couple months, and now that he had actually had her, he didn't want her to be absent.

It was so much better with her than it had been with other witches.

He stood in front of the mirror that he was unfortunately unable to remove from his quarters (courtesy of a sticking charm that he was convinced the current headmaster had placed there just to vex him), examining his frock coat. To his slight annoyance, it was still missing buttons.  _'Course, my accio wasn't quite up to par at the time…'_

To be honest, if he had had his way, he wouldn't have needed the summoning spell until the morning. But being in the Malfoy home, in bed with the lady of the manor, would hardly have been a good way to begin the day. He knew from previous stays there that the house-elves began their rounds early, and if they had come in before he had awoken… And there was also that whole deal about her being partially responsible for hosting the ball. But oh damn had it been hard to get up from that bed.

He'd let her be the first to rise, mainly so he could feast his eyes on her for a while longer. When she noticed his watching she'd flushed but hadn't moved any faster, and he didn't stop what he was doing. She looked positively savory when she was finished and walked to the door slowly, and he sighed as he stood up.

The time it took to don his clothing gave her ample time to meander back to the hall, so he didn't delay himself much, only choosing to take a different route so that they didn't look too suspicious. Before he even exited the archway he caught sight of Lucius dancing with Bella, and he felt something vaguely familiar shifting in him. He was jealous of what the other man had, because Lucius treated his gem like nothing at all. But Severus wasn't just jealous – he was proud. Proud because he was the only one who had been able to have her and proud because he had obviously pleased her. On top of all that, he hoped that he had lit the same type of fire in her that she had lit in him. He wanted more of her.

Sighing softly, he turned from the mirror and to his bed, not even bothering to shed his clothing first. He'd have to be up in a couple of hours anyway so that he could waste his day dealing with dunderheads. At least there wasn't any foolish wand-waving in his class. The thought of wands brought to mind the picture of her trying to unlock the door to the scene of their rendezvous, and that in turn led to the thought that right about now, she should be laying down too.

With Lucius. With a secret she can breathe no hint of.

Without him.

Oh, Merlin.

 

* * *

 

Narcissa had slipped unnoticed into her marriage bed – or so she thought. Unfortunately, it seemed her husband was not as asleep as she'd hoped. "There you are," he grumbled. "What took you so long?"

"I saw off a few more inebriated stragglers," she said. A truth.

His sinewy arm wrapped over her stomach and she fought against the urge to tense. "You looked lovely this evening."

He was looking at her. She felt more than saw his eyes roving over her silk-clad form. "I was unaware you noticed."

"Hm?" He sidled a little closer to her. "Why do you say that?"

"You barely spoke to me all evening. You danced with every witch but me, and disappeared with a few of them." She sensed his defenses on the rise, but didn't care. She was reckless, drunk on her earlier tryst. "It hurts, you know. It's humiliating. I know what you do, and you hardly give a damn."

He was quick, raising up on one elbow and forcing her to face him with strict fingers on her chin. "You're damned lucky I'm not like the others. Shoving you into the beds of other wizards. Other witches, for that matter! I protect you!" His blue eyes were manic and angry in the early morning's pale. "Or do I?" With his free hand, he pulled a button from what seemed like thin air. A very familiar, wool covered button. "Who the hell does this belong to?"

She felt her heart speed up. "What the hell does it matter to you?"

He growled. "It's my business what goes on in my house…and with my wife."

"Oh yes, I forgot…you own me! You dally as you please and treat me like the toy you simply won't share! Ow!"

He wrenched her by the hair. "So you want me to share you? To pass you around like the other Death Eater wives?"

"No!" She shouted back. "I'd like you to be a husband! I'd like to think I please you as a wife! And I'd like the pleasure in return!"

In response, he forced his way between her legs. She shoved at him, but he planted her wrists alongside her head. "You're right, Cissa," he growled. "I have neglected you of late. Perhaps I should remind you that you  _do_  please me as a wife. In just this way." He pressed his erection aggressively into her abdomen.

"No, Lucius! I didn't mean –"

"Then you should watch what you say, wife." On his knees he tugged the hem of her nightgown up and her matching knickers down. "Turn over!" He barked.

"Please!"

"Exactly." He wrestled with her until she was on her stomach, held steady by his hands on her hips. Frustrated and awkward, he positioned himself at her dry entrance. "You speak of pleasure and yet you're not exactly welcoming." He spat on his hand, rubbed his stiff cock. Spat again, and rubbed her cunt. "No sense…"

"Fuck you, Lucius!" She gasped under his weight.

"No, Narcissa." He shoved gracelessly inside her. "Fuck you."

She didn't even whimper. Bit the hell out of her lip, but didn't whimper. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. And sickly, she knew it was satisfaction for him. Her husband delighted in hurting her just a little. She was accustomed to this rare treatment, glad it  _was_  rare. He thrust in and out of her without a care for her enjoyment. There had been a time when they'd made love, been a husband and wife together. They had a beautiful child to show for it.

But now… She closed her eyes against tears and thought of Severus. She imagined his hands holding her, his teeth on her shoulder, his hardness inside her. She remembered the sensuality of his words, the promise in his voice and how he'd fulfilled that promise, how he'd fulfilled her. Then her husband shuddered atop her and grunted, and she realized there was no comparison.

At brunch, she could barely tolerate her husband's smugness and her sister's giggling. They gossiped like girls about every face that had attended the ball. "I couldn't believe Dolohov's wife wore that frock. As if she was a prize!" Bella crowed. "She's a face like a horse!"

Lucius chuckled. "Odd, since she's such a cow!" They laughed like the best of friends.

"Cissy. I saw you dancing with the recluse last night. Is he truly…severe?" Bella's eyes sparkled.

Narcissa set aside her spreading knife, momentarily tempted to use it for evil. Even her husband looked at her expectantly. She cleared her throat. "Severus is a fine dancer."

"If you like dancing with boards." Bella added. "And where did you disappear to? I saw you dancing, then you were gone."

Here, Lucius looked even more expectant. "We took some air," Cissa said. "In the garden. Severus tells me Draco's marks are improving, and his talent for quidditch is impressive."

Her husband's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Of course," he said. "He's my son." Smiles were forced.

"Huh." Bella just stared at Narcissa, her dark expression stating ample suspicion. Narcissa, however, simply buttered a scone.

Lucius took a long drink of his coffee, and then watched as his wife placed the scone against her lips and took a bite. "I'm leaving this afternoon. The Minister has business that he wishes me to accompany him on."

She had to work hard to keep the relief off of her face. "And how long will you be gone?"

"Three to four days. We'll be back in plenty of time to properly celebrate the holidays."

Bella smirked slightly. "Why, Cissy? Do you have plans or something?"

"Not…particularly." Oh, just dreaming of another romp with the recluse. It was the response she wished she could actually give.

"Well." Lucius gave her a slightly cool look. "I'm confident you can find something to do." And with that, conversation ceased to exist.

 

* * *

 

Severus was surprised to find that his classes weren't as dull as they usually were – especially his double period with the fifth-year Slytherins and Gryffindors. In the first class of the day, a first-year Hufflepuff girl had managed to set her hair on fire and turn one of her fingers into a twig (he still wasn't sure how the second part had happened and was only glad that Poppy had been able to sort it out). Later, a third year Ravenclaw boy had felt that he could sufficiently argue about the properties of a variety of tonics.

Oh, but Potter's class had been the best by far.

The students were standing in the corridor when he swept into it. There was an immediate hush from the gold and crimson bearers as he flicked his wand and the door flew open with a bang. As was typical, his House entered first and then the Gryffindors reluctantly filed past him. He wasn't quiet with closing the door, his wand a blur as he pointed it over his shoulder on his way to the board.

"Instructions for the day are, as should be obvious, on the board. I suggest you begin immediately; your work is due by the end of the period. If you must linger to complete it, I'm afraid your score will suffer tremendously." He leveled his gaze on Neville Longbottom at that moment, wondering when the boy would cease worrying about what others thought of him as well as stop wishing he could live up to the expectations that had been established by all who had known Frank and Alice.

Like those other people, Severus knew the boy had a tremendous amount of talent – but he also knew that that talent was located in a spot that they wished it weren't. Herbology went along with his course quite a bit; it shouldn't be too big a stretch to hope that Longbottom could understand the instructions for (and carry said instructions out) a rudimentary potion.

"Because you should have no trouble with your work today, I'm selecting your partners. You will work in groups of three. Longbottom – move to sit with Granger and Weasley. Potter, you move to Finnigan and Thomas." He went on until he had everyone arranged how he wanted, then stood next to his desk.

And then they had the audacity to sit there staring at him, their mouths gaping. He was giving them a day to earn an easy grade – they had done this work their second year – and they couldn't even start it. "Perhaps you did not understand me the first time. The clock is ticking. Marks…are…dropping."

That time he turned his gaze to Potter, unsurprised to find the arrogant boy glaring at him. He couldn't resist a bit of a smirk before moving down the row separating the two houses, noting, as he passed the table Draco sat at, that the boy was talking about his father. Curious as to the exact content of the conversation, he hovered nearby, pretending to survey the other students.

"Mother sent me her owl; it got here just before we came down to the dungeons. She says Father is going on business with the Minister for a few days."

"What kind of business?" Pansy Parkinson, the young blonde's sole partner because of an absent student, looked at him, her expression rapt.

Draco shrugged. "She didn't say. She just said that she wishes I were there to keep her from being so lonely. And," he dropped his voice to a softer decibel, "she doesn't know it, but Aunt Bella wrote to me too, mentioned something else. Something about the ball that I told you was happening last night."

"Oh?"

"She said Mother and Father had another row afterward, because of the policies concerning most of the wives of the Death Eaters. Mother got hurt because she saw a few of them slip off with Father. But she was dancing with Professor Snape, and they disappeared."

Pansy gasped. "Why?"

Again, the boy shrugged. "How should I know? Aunt Bella thinks that they went off to shag, and she thinks Father agrees. Mother claims that they were just talking in the garden, but neither Aunt Bella nor Father believed her when she said it."

Pansy began cutting ingredients as Draco set the water in the cauldron to the right temperature. "What do you think?"

He hesitated before responding. "It hardly matters."

"Surely you don't  _really_  think that? Your mum and…him?"

Draco looked defensive suddenly. "What do you mean by that, Pansy?"

"Well, just…" She blushed slightly. "If it were my mum and a man I've known ever since I could remember – who knew Mum before I was even thought about – then I'd think it was really weird."

He measured out the different amounts of various ingredients that were going to be added soon before responding. "You've also got a normal family." He dropped in the first bit, watched steam rise as the liquid hissed at the addition. "My parents haven't been proper together in years – even I know it. Mother will make her own decisions, regardless of how I feel. Who would I be to deny her anything, especially happiness, if that's what it is she gets from him?"

"You could still feel…upset or something."

"Pansy." He sighed. "There is no proof of anything going on. A button is a button. It could have come from any person. And it isn't exactly like it's hard to use alohomora to unlock any door that guests had any access to. But if you won't shut up about it, I  _do_ think it'd be weird…but if she were to be with someone besides Father, Professor Snape would be okay with me. At least I know him."

With that, Severus moved back to his desk and fought to keep his mind clear of images of Narcissa. He lost that battle, spending the remainder of the period in a distracted state.

 

* * *

 

Narcissa was having a similar problem. After seeing off her suspicious and agitated husband, she wandered to her favorite solace: her tub.

It was simply one of the perks of wealth, she supposed. Her bath chamber was nearly ridiculous in its appointment; blue marble flooring, gilded taps and a mother-of-pearl garden tub. For all of its ostentatiousness, it was her favorite room for its quiet. When she was immersed in charmed bubbles, she was witness to naught but the ripples of the water and the echo of her own humming. Peace and bliss… She sighed and draped a flannel over her eyes, leaned back for a luxurious soak.

Of course she would be disturbed.

Brisk heavy footfalls. The swish of a cloak and the click of the door closing. She withheld a grimace and force politeness into her tone. "I thought you'd gone, husband."

"Hardly."

 _Not_ Lucius' voice – not in the least. She whirled toward the speaker, tearing the flannel from her face. "Severus!" He was glorious; fully bedecked in his black barrier, his lengthening hair mussed from apparation or flight. "What are you doing here? Bella will –"

"Bella was nowhere to be seen. I used the southern entrance. And I believe your wards recognize my wand?"

She nodded, still surprised. "Yes, but –"

"Shall I leave, then?"

"No!" She was quick to answer. "How did you know –"

"Your son informed his Miss Parkinson today that his father would be…away for a few days. And he said some other things I felt I should impart to you."

"Oh." Disappointment tinged her voice. She'd hoped he simply wanted to  _see_  her, to be with her again.

"And…I wanted to see you again."

Hope swelled in her chest. "Severus –"

"Get out," he demanded.

Her brow rose. He dared to order her about in her own house? A wicked smile curved her bowed lips. "You get in," she responded lowly.

His nostrils flared and for a moment, she thought he would refuse. But then, he was shedding his boots and black eagerly. "You're impossible," he groused.

But she giggled and shifted to allow him into the bath. It was certainly big enough for them to share. She sobered and swallowed, watching him strip. His movements were brisk and perfunctory. He was neat to a T. But it was the first time she'd seen him naked in any proper light, and he was…different.

Where Lucius was firm and thick, Severus was sinewy and lean. His ribs stood out, and his belly was a flat plane dipping into a deep, sensual 'v.' The shape made a flattering frame for the impressive erection he sported. He looked down at her, taking in her perusal. "Alright?"

A man of such few words… She reached for him. "Quite alright," she answered.

Water sloshed over the tub rim. He gathered her to him fiercely and she kissed him with true passion. "I'm glad you've come," she gasped. Her wet fingers slicked his hair away from his face. "I can't seem to stop thinking about you."

"Nor can I," he muttered into her neck. "Damn nuisance."

She chuckled, the sound muffled by his mouth on her throat. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." Suddenly, he boosted her onto the tub rim, holding her knees over his elbows.

"Ah!" Narcissa's hands slapped against marble and mother-of-pearl as she leaned back. "What the hell are you – Oh." His mouth was doing the devil's work between her thighs. A bizarre mixture of tension and abatement overtook her. One hand clawed in his hair. "Oh, goddess bless…Severus! That's…that's so good." She quivered.

He was quiet, intent on his work as if she was a delicate and detailed potion. He experimented, licking, lapping, nipping and sucking, cataloging all of her responses and formulating patterns which he then reformulated. He was a potioneer of pure pleasure, a veritable Tesla of teasing.

She encouraged him with abandoned cries and filthy words. When she finally came, keening and curling over his head, he pulled her back into the water and onto his cock. "Oh, Christ." He groaned, seated at last where he'd wanted to be these last hours – between her thighs and in the clutch of her wet heat. He kissed her sloppily. "I'd wondered what you tasted like," he hissed, thrusting.

More water sloshed over the tub rim with each movement of his hips. "And what do I taste like?" She managed.

"Secrets." He kissed her again, and she accepted his ambiguous answer with a pleasured sigh, watched his precious release contort his odd face into a rictus of luxurious pain.

With the manor nearly to themselves, neither of them needed to run away like a thief. Narcissa reached for her wand on the ledge and tapped the fish-shaped taps. Hot water flowed into the water-depleted bath. When she leaned back, it was into Severus' long arms she settled.

They shared a contented sigh. "What did you have to tell me?" She asked.

"Mm." Massaging her soapy breasts, he repeated Draco's words from his classroom.

"Draco knows?" Her tone was fearful, embarrassed.

"No one  _knows_ , Narcissa," Severus assured her. "But many may suspect, it seems. Including your husband and your sister."

"I know." Reluctantly, she told him about breakfast. "Should we stop?" She asked meekly. "What do you think?"

"I think…" He kissed her ear, the side of her face, her neck. "That what they don't know for a fact will not hurt them. Or us."

Relieved at his words, she turned against his chest, kissed his lips. "I agree."

"But we must be careful," he admonished.

She nodded. "I understand."

He scowled. "I cannot stay, I'm afraid." She frowned. "I've rounds this evening. And classes tomorrow. Also, Albus doesn't exactly know I've left the school."

"I see." She nuzzled his chin. "When will I see you again?"

"I don't know." He kissed the top of her head. "I simply don't know." They enjoyed caresses and the sounds of the water echoing around them for a long moment before Severus loathingly redressed and departed with a regretful look back at his lover.

Narcissa remained in the bath after he left, leaning over the tub's rim with her arms crossed beneath her chin. "This won't be easy," she whispered to herself. "But it will be worth every effort."


	3. Chapter 3

He had never been so ready for the holidays to begin as he was this year. The minutes during classes went by so slowly it was almost as if someone were deliberately setting the clock back in order to make him relive each tick a hundred times over…and that made his attitude toward his pupils even more dangerous (if that were really possible). A couple times he even found himself snapping at Slytherins; one unfortunate second-year girl in the House darted in front of him before halting completely as he was walking to the Great Hall the last night of the fall term, making him stumble into her, and the verbal lashing he gave her made her burst into tears.

He felt slightly bad about it, but not terribly.

When the students were dismissed, he was glad. Their being gone meant he was one step closer to being able to see Narcissa again. The woman was impossible to get out of his head; it was almost like he had a fever that wouldn't break.

A couple nights into the holiday, he could find no sleep. For hours he lay in his bed, tossing and turning fitfully. And then finally he decided that he couldn't last any longer than the next day before he  _had_ to see her. With a sigh, he rolled from his stomach to his side and then summoned a sleeping potion to him. A couple drops were sufficient to send him to a relatively peaceful slumber.

Breakfast the next morning brought with it a pleasant surprise – an owl. He sat at the staff table in the Great Hall with Albus to his left, occupying the space between him and Minerva. Ordinarily he didn't mind sitting next to the witch but today he was glad that he didn't have to. She was smart, smarter than most of the women he dealt with, and like himself, she was firm on discipline. For the most part, they got along grandly. Lately, though, she had been giving him strange looks and he had a feeling that she was among the group believing he was having affair. Well, she wouldn't quite know that he was having an affair…but she definitely suspected he had found someone to bed.

"Sleep well, Severus?" Dumbledore's tone was conversational enough, but there was an undercurrent to it that made the question suspicious.

"Well enough. Yourself?"

"As you said, well enough." The older man looked to Minerva and they exchanged a slight smile that left Severus wondering what they were currently planning.

The witch grabbed her goblet. "You've seem a bit distracted as of late. Everything alright?"

' _And it begins,'_  he thought as he shot her a look. "Simply busy."

"What's her name?"

"Who?"

"Who do you think? The woman who's got you acting all out of turn!"

He sighed again. "I assure you, Minerva, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

Right as Severus picked up a piece of toast and bit into it, the owls came. Most of them went to the students, but a few came to the staff. He recognized the one headed to him without even looking at the parchment she had in her talons, for she was by far the most beautiful out of the group here. Pure white, like those blasted peacocks that Lucius liked to watch strut around his property, she was radiant. Carefully, she landed on his left arm after he offered it to her, taking care not to dig in like most of the birds did. With his right hand, Severus took the parchment from her proffered leg and set it down beside his plate. In a rare display of affection, he stroked her feathers until she hopped to the table and began to devour the eggs he hadn't even touched.

The parchment had its seal broken and was rolled open within the blink of an eye, his eyes scanning over it quickly.

_Severus,_

_We must meet. I don't want you to come here, not this time. Let me make up some excuse to Lucius, and I'll meet you at the school instead. Surely it will be safe there? Let me know. You can send your answer back as soon as you get this._

_Cissa_

A low murmur to his left resulted in Dumbledore handing him a muggle pen, seeing as there were no quills or ink at the table, although it did cost him.

"Is your lady friend in such a hurry she cannot wait long enough for you to gain access to your preferred materials, Severus?" Dumbledore's tone was one of amusement at the expression of disdain on the professor's face as he wrote.

He scribbled a 'yes' as his response and rolled the parchment back up, waving his wand to place a new seal on it. As if she sensed he wasn't really in the mood to wait on her to finish her meal, the owl stuck her leg out for him and he tied the response to her. She snatched up a piece of bacon and, holding it carefully in her beak, took off.

"Once again, I have no idea what you're talking about." His tone was strained, but he managed to keep from snapping.

"Well, Severus I hope you know what  _I'm_  talking about when I say I need some headache potion." Poppy Pomfrey spoke up from the end of the table. "And a generous amount of it, too! I know what's going to happen in this castle come Yule Evening and New Years."

"And what's that, Poppy?" McGonagall wanted to know.

Poppy chuckled. "Well, if I know you, Minnie, it will involve vast amounts of muggle scotch and partial nudity."

Dumbledore's eyebrows quirked. "Again?" He asked. "Wonderful! I was hoping to make that a staff tradition."

Dolores Umbridge tutted and made a mark in her ever-present notebook. McGonagall noticed and responded in her unique way. "And I do hope you will join us, Professor Umbridge? Are you a poker player?"

There was much tisking from the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Severus could still feel eyes upon him, but thankfully conversation had turned, so he stood from the table shortly thereafter. Poppy had handed him a lovely excuse to exit the situation, and he retreated to the quiet comforts of his dungeon to await his guest. A clean and quiet potions classroom served him well. He set to brewing Poppy's headache draught in his preferred cast iron cauldron, alone with his herbs and thoughts.

He removed his robes and frock coat. Brewing could grow terribly hot, and there were no students about to intimidate. He remembered Narcissa's eyes on him so recently and his forehead creased as he chopped thin sprigs of valerian. She was a beautiful witch. What could she see in him?

He shrugged. Well, she obviously saw  _something_ because she'd exhibited no qualms in fucking him senseless on two separate occasions. 'Lucius must be truly awful to her,' he thought. 'For her to take up an affair with a penniless potions professor.'

And it was only an  _affair_ , after all. Nothing more. He entertained no fantasies of falling in love, or being fallen in love with. He'd had his chance at a great love once, and he'd ruined it… Roughly, he crushed fresh mugwort into a paste. But he wouldn't think of her…of Lily.

Lily. Narcissa. He looked up suddenly at nothing. 'My two flowers. One closed to me and wilted forever, the other alive and lively and opening at my slightest touch.' He sighed. Went back to chopping. He thought of the narcissus, of its properties. Order: Asparagales. Family: Amaryllidaceae. A fragile, spring –bloomer, though some species managed to thrive in autumn months. Beautiful, deceitfully delicate, and poisonous.

The toxin lycorine could be found in the leaves and bulb of the plant. Fatal in high enough doses. He imagined he'd do well to remember that, not that he suspected his narcissus of any murderous intent. He feared that more from her sister.

'Still dangerous,' he thought, stirring his potion. 'Playing with another man's wife – particularly this man – is playing with fire.' Lucius was vicious in his own right, a heartless son of a bitch who felt little for his fellow wizards and much for his money. He loved his possessions, Severus knew, and imagined Narcissa counted among the most valuable of those possessions.

'Perhaps we should stop,' he thought. 'End this while we are able and undiscovered.' Then he thought of her breasts, her eyes, her body beneath him and the feel of her contracting on his –

A heavy knock interrupted his distracting daydream. Flustered, he waved his wand over the brew, muttered a stabilizing charm. Damned Albus, probably – come to harangue him further. He flung open the door and froze.

"Narcissa." He hated sounding surprised.

Nonplused, the witch in the corridor lowered her hood and stepped past him. "Severus. Were you expecting someone else?"

He checked the hallway, found it empty, and closed the door. "No. I simply wasn't expecting you so soon. I would have collected you at the gate if I'd known you'd arrived."

"I must confess," she murmured, circling a student table. "I was in Hogsmeade. I was…anticipating your positive response, I'm afraid."

"I see." He smirked. Leaned against the table she rounded. "And if I'd refused your visit?"

She removed her own elaborate frock coat and tossed it over the table. "I suppose I would have gone home. Lonely, cold, bitter and unsatisfied." She approached him. He tried to appear unwavering. "I didn't mean to interrupt your work." She was unbuttoning his trouser placket. "Is it terribly important?"

He gulped. "Terribly."

"What a shame." Then – as if it happened every day – she dropped to her knees and took his hardness in her mouth.

"Ah!" He gasped at the unexpected pleasure, hand firing to her head – not pushing, just caressing. She needed no guidance. Her mouth was an instrument of darkest pleasure. His thighs tensed and his head lolled on his shoulders. "Fucking hell," he murmured. He hissed when she sucked, and when her tongue swirled, he grunted and bucked. "I won't last if you keep this up."

She pulled away, boudoir eyes flicking up to his face. "I think I'm keeping you up quite well." She bobbed back to work.

He groaned.  _Poisonous, indeed._ "Oh, you're the devil." His hands tugged at her hair. "Stop if you want a proper fuck."

She spoke against the side of his cock. "There's nothing proper about what we do, you know."

"I know, witch." He tugged her to her feet. "But I want to be inside you when we're improper." He reached beneath her knee-length a-line skirt, found no knickers beneath her garters. "You certainly were anticipating." It was her turn to squirm and gasp when his fingers set a licentious massage inside her folds. He backed her to the neighboring table's edge, drawing wetness up and around her hardened, protruding clit.

She draped her arms over his shoulders, kissed him and moaned in his mouth. "Very sweet, Severus. Oh!" His free hand was untucking her silk blouse, seeking out bare skin and finding it hot and sticky. "I need you inside me," she babbled. He pulled the blouse over her head. "I can't stop thinking about it. About you."

Roughly, he tugged her to the edge of the table. "I think of it, too," he murmured in her ear. He slid inside her leisurely, wanting to prolong the moment of their joining.

Soon enough, her supplications began. "Severus, please. More!" She clawed at his shoulders and he was glad he still wore his white cotton oxford. So he pumped a bit faster, felt his trousers slip down around his ankles. Not the most attractive position for him to be seen in, but the possibility rather heightened his enjoyment.

His hands alternated between holding her and palming her perfect breasts. She pushed the flesh lewdly into his palms, perfectly willing to turn heedless whore when it came to him. And when she was panting, her breath hitching into little sobs, he re-directed his fingers to the prurient protuberance above their coupling. A few well-placed flicks and pinches had her jolting and seizing against him, pulling him over the crevasse with her.

They kissed, moaning and whimpering as they came, abandoned to all but each other. "Magnificent," Narcissa breathed.

"As always," Severus agreed.

She nuzzled his chest sadly. "I wish we had more time."

"You can stay if you like. We can be undisturbed in my chambers."

But she shook her head, already pulling away from him. "No. I told Lucius I was out to do some holiday shopping. And I've been seen here. If word gets back to him…" She sighed. "I shouldn't have come." She was standing, brushing against him as she affixed her garters.

He reached behind her for her discarded blouse. "I'm glad you did come."

"It's too risky, isn't it?" She asked. Her eyes were moist as she buttoned the blouse, concealing again her lovely body.

He fought a brief internal war as he pulled up his trousers. "We both know it's risky. That is not a question."

"Then what  _is_  the question?" Frustration glinted on the edges of her words. Her hands fluttered over her mussed hair, touching the strands back into place.

He dropped onto a bench, watched her apply a coat of light red lipstick. "I suppose the question becomes is it worth the risk?" Her heels clicked on the stone floor as she collected then shrugged into her coat. He didn't rise, but tracked her movements in his peripheral vision.

"Well," she said softly. "Is it?"

"I don't want harm to come to you," he said. Honesty.

"Nor I you." She sighed.

Finally he rose, went to her. "I…I trust your discretion," he said.

She reached to his collar, fussed with it unnecessarily. "I appreciate your trust. And I confess I think I may be harmed more by not having this than by any repercussions of discovery."

He kissed her fingers. "Then we shall…attempt to continue?" At her nod, he closed his eyes – part in relief, and part in fear.  _A foolish decision for both of us…_ "I'll see you to the gates?"

"Please."

Once more – because he knew not when there would arise another chance – he kissed her lips. "Come then."

The school was eerily quiet, with most of the students having gone home. Without their incessant babbling rising decibels above what could be considered tolerable, the footsteps of the lovers were audible, their sounds bouncing off the walls. Still, he found himself looking around, watching for people wandering the corridors. All he saw was a shadow near the entrance to the Great Hall – and even that may have been his imagination, although he doubted it.

When they reached the gates, they stood still, staring at one another. Neither wanted to say goodbye, even though they knew they must. Finally, Narcissa broke the silence. "Will I see you again before the students return to school?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets, cold from having left his robes where he had set them earlier. "Undoubtedly. The Dark Lord wishes to speak with me regarding…plans."

She took a step closer to him, moved like she wanted to place her hands on his chest but changed her mind. "Would these be some of the plans he and Lucius have been discussing so intensely as of late?"

He raised an eyebrow slightly. "You know as well as I do that his word is law, and he has asked that I not speak of it." At her sigh, he abandoned his reservations for a brief moment and his hand flashed out to tilt her chin up so that his dark eyes met her blue ones. "What does it matter?"

"I suppose it doesn't." She kept her chin up even as he removed his hand, finding a surprise in her delight at the tingling sensation created by the cold air hitting her skin where his warm flesh had just been. "Just so long as I can see you."

He smirked ever so slightly. "Rest calmly."

She nodded back and then, when she was past the gates, looked over her shoulder before disappearing in a swirl or black. He waited for just a couple seconds before returning to the castle, moving more swiftly than he had previously. The draught that Poppy had asked for needed to be continued, and while he was confident in his own abilities to work out even the worst kinks in things, he didn't want to leave it under the stabilizing charm for longer than was necessary.

He had just gotten settled back in at his work space when there was another knock on the door. This time he didn't bother standing to get it himself, just flicked his wrist sharply, and heard the resounding bang as the door made a new friend in the wall.

"Even after your visitor, your mood hasn't improved." Minerva entered without a formal invitation being issued, coming as close to his station as she dared.

He looked up swiftly. "My…visitor?" His tone was carefully controlled, like he wasn't sure what she was talking about.

"You act as though you don't know who I refer to. Narcissa Malfoy was at the gates and when I asked her what she needed, she said she had business with you." He didn't like the way she was looking at him, like she knew everything that was going on.

"Ah." He looked back down briefly, set his brew on hold again, and stood. The material of his white oxford clung to him where sweat from the hot work was already collecting – and from where that from earlier hadn't completely dried yet. "She did."

"Business so urgent that it couldn't wait until term resumed?"

"Not everything is able to be put on hold just because students are on holiday. Some pupils do take extra lessons." Without his bidding, his eyes strayed to the table that had just been used.  _And some teachers get lessons themselves._

He felt her gaze on him, felt her taking note of the fact he wasn't wearing his robes and frock coat. The lack of his billow. If he had felt like using legilimency he would have known that she was thinking Narcissa was someone he was quite comfortable with, if he were willing to drop his usual appearance.

"And Draco Malfoy is one of these students?"  _Oh hell._  His lack of response made Minerva's eyes narrow. "I suppose your position in this war has some perks, Severus, but I wouldn't think you would go to this."

He felt his jaw tighten slightly. "Oh? My status as whipping boy to the Dark Lord and glorified spy for Albus Dumbledore left you imagining what, Minerva? That I still possess morals?"

"Well, I had hoped…"

"I hoped for many things in life. Yet here I stand before you." There was no keeping the bitterness out of his voice, but he dropped the act of anything innocent going on between him and Narcissa.

"Does she mean anything to you? Or are you truly just playing your part?" Minerva's own tone both softened and became colder at the same time.

He paused for a split second, not long enough to raise suspicion, but long enough for himself to know that he wasn't quite sure. "Some roles are more…enjoyable than others."

"I take it Lucius doesn't know." She assumed a stiffer posture.

"Hardly."

"If he did?"

Severus took a single step closer to her, eyes flashing suddenly with something that could have been worry or anger. "You mustn't."

"Then she mustn't return to the school to visit you. Keep your business elsewhere." Her lips pursed impossibly. "I normally wouldn't give a tinker's damn, Severus. But this time… Hogwarts has a reputation to uphold. And Lucius Malfoy is on the Board of Governors, and quite generous to his son's school."

He gave a stiff nod, resigned to the truth in her words. "Of course." It was the price he had to pay if he wanted to keep seeing Narcissa…but it made things all the more difficult.

"Good." Minerva turned to leave, business completed. "And Severus?" She paused, hand on the door latch. "Don't remind me of your less than savory associations. I like to think I can trust you now."

He let her leave without replying, but cast a stirring rod across the classroom forcefully in her wake. "Damn!"

Narcissa faced a confrontation of her own. She arrived back at her home before dinner was to be served. She took advantage of the extra time to have a quick bath. A girlish part of her lamented washing away the scent of Severus, but the shamed harlot in her knew it was necessary to maintain peace in her marriage.

She was toweling off when the other half of that marriage appeared in the lavatory doorway. She acknowledged him with a glance only.

"Pleasant shopping?"

She shrugged, tried to ignore the scrape of his eyes over her nakedness. A very brief panic flitted through her. Did her lover leave any marks? "It was not as productive as I would have liked. I had to place a few orders for items I didn't find."

"Pity." Lucius drew a finger down her bare back. She resisted pulling away. "I wanted to…apologize." The word was caustic on his tongue. "For my behavior after the ball. I'd been in the cups and was…reactionary."

Boldly, she dropped her towel and sauntered into their bedroom. At her vanity, she took up her wand and summoned a favorite lotion. "I assume you refer to raping me?" She calmly began moisturizing her legs.

He scoffed, lounged on the bed. "Hardly. You're my wife."

She glared at him. "You're ghastly. You believe that my status as your spouse gives you the right to –"

"It does," he interrupted smoothly. "And if you behaved as a proper wife, such…provincial measures would not be required." She stared at him open-mouthed, and he patted the bed beside himself. "That being said, you are naked, and we've a bit of time before we dine. Come here."

 _Oh, gods._ "Lucius. I just bathed," she hedged.

"I know." He sat up, shrugged out of his fine robes. "I like to take you clean and leave you dirty." His silvery eyes narrowed dangerously. The defined muscles of his abdomen flexed as he rose to his knees, held his hand out to her."I said come here, wife."

A chill crept up her spine. She crossed the few feet to their bed. "As you wish, husband." He drew her tightly to his chest, practically spread like a peacock as he lowered her to their bed. He kissed down her neck, possession in every touch of his lips.  _Maintain the peace_ , she thought.  _Maintain the peace._ Her eyes closed as her husband's fingers explored.  _Maintain the peace…and think of Severus._


	4. Chapter 4

_Does she mean anything to you?_ The question haunted him. It had been weeks since Minerva had asked him that, but still he couldn't answer it. He could give a broken response, or a lie, but not the truth. The truth was too dangerous and he wasn't even sure if he knew what it was. If he  _wanted_ to know. What they had wasn't supposed to be about feelings or meaning. It was supposed to just be about taking pleasure in one another. But they were meeting too often, in his opinion, for this to be solely about sex.

What he really couldn't figure out was  _what_ their relationship was. He couldn't care for her in the way that Minerva was meaning…he just couldn't. But he did care about her – and that was the whole reason that when she had come to the school to visit him, he was glad she had agreed it was worth it to continue.

He took a deep breath, looked around. Death Eaters milled about, their voices all blending together. Snatches of conversation reached his ears but he didn't pay them any mind, because the voices having these conversations weren't voices he was longing to hear. That particular voice was conspicuously absent, although her husband was only two small feet away from him and coming closer.

"Severus, surely you don't intend to maintain sobriety the entire evening." Lucius raised his own goblet, waved a serving boy over. "Here, take a drink."

He shook his head. "While I appreciate your thoughtfulness and do wish I could partake in your...supremely hasty celebration, I have classes to teach in the morning and a meeting with Dolores that I would just hate to miss."

Lucius gave a slight smirk. "And I know how much you do love teaching."

"Oh, yes. I take such delight in the babbling that goes on while students are supposed to be working and are instead focusing their attention on one another. Couples are the best."

The blonde man took a drink. "Narcissa and I certainly were."

"I'm sure." His tone took on ice. "Of course, things have changed as of late, haven't they Lucius?"

"What do you mean by that, my friend?"

"Oh you know exactly what I mean. She saw you with the girls at the ball." He regarded his host coolly.

Lucius' blue eyes hardened. "And nobody saw you with any girls – they just saw you dancing with my  _wife_."

"So now it is a crime for a man to refrain from intercourse with those outside his marriage and to dance with an associate's wife. Interesting."

"You don't have a wife TO fuck, Snape!" The raise in his tone got the attention of everyone in the room; the Dark Lord turned from a quiet discussion with one of the newer Death Eaters and began moving slowly toward them.

Severus quirked an eyebrow. "Splendid of you to notice."

"I hear a lot of talk that you disappeared for a while the night of the ball around the same time that Narcissa did. Where did you go?"

He was ready to get out of here, to go search for her. "We stepped out to the garden to discuss your son and his marks. I, for one, could barely hear over Bella and Yaxley laughing."

"That's-"

"Enough. That's enough." Voldemort looked between the two men, distaste not covered in his eyes when he settled for watching Lucius. He wasn't sure, still, how good a servant a man who had grown used to being his own master was going to be. "Lucius, a word alone, please?"

Severus gave a slight bow and brushed past Lucius, robes fluttering out around him as he entered the cool hallway. It was a relief to be out of the midst of vipers, to be free to seek out the only person he really wanted to see. As it was, he didn't have to search for long; she met him along the way. They were silent, just exchanging a look, and she slipped into a doorway. He followed, looking behind him first to ensure they weren't seen.

He recognized the room they were in immediately, having spent several of his younger days in it while discussing various plans for attacks with the owner of it. Lucius' study hadn't improved much at all by the man's own designing, but the addition of his wife made it a much more appealing place. That wasn't to say that it wasn't impressive. There were shelves upon shelves of books, one of which would swing open to reveal a passage to the library, a fireplace, large mahogany desk and leather chair. A lamp stood in the corner, near the window, throwing a dim light. This was obviously a place used little, at least these days.

"We should talk." She looked up at him, those blue eyes full of something he couldn't quite put a name on.

"About?" It was the last thing he wanted to do. Not right now.

She stepped closer, closed the door. "Has the Dark Lord not spoken to you?"

He shook his head and she took another step. He held his hand out to her and she took it, feeling a thrill of delight as his fingers closed around hers and he pulled her to him. Their lips met with a rush, but not for long enough.

"He knows." Narcissa kissed his neck, what little was exposed, as she murmured against it. "Or he will soon. The Dark Lord has figured out the truth." Her teeth scraped the flesh just above his Adam's apple and his hands pressed her closer to him as he let out a soft hiss.

"The Dark Lord may know. But he shan't concern himself with such trivialities unless it behooves him." He slipped his hands from behind her, one settling on her waist and the other trailing up her side in a painfully slow and controlled manner, until he reached the top of her blouse. He was swift with the buttons, getting them all undone within what seemed like a single blink of the eye.

She was busy as well, making haste in removing everything that covered his chest and shoulders, eager for bare skin. And when she had it, she ran her hands up and down him. Her touch was like fire, setting him ablaze wherever he could feel the faintest brush, and she knew it too. Kissing her way up his neck and down his jaw, she was tantalizing as she shied away when he bent to take her mouth. "I fear that it may."

"What would you have me do? Quit?"

Panic flitted through her at the words, though keeping it hidden wasn't hard with the feelings his touch was spreading. His hands seemed everywhere all at once, driving her desire to new heights, and she felt almost desperate for him. "No. I cannot think of a better thing to suffer for." Goddess, did she really sound that breathless?

Satisfied with her answer, Severus spun them around so that it was he who was pressing her against a bookcase instead of the other way around. One of them – he wasn't sure who – knocked over a picture frame in the process. The shattering of the glass seemed a distant sound, so insignificant to him that it hardly mattered.

His attack was swift and sudden, and with her back to the shelves, she could hardly tease him by dancing back now. For that, he was glad. He nipped at her bottom lip, sucked it lightly, moved to her jaw and then down her neck. Before he could progress further, she wormed a hand between them, slipping it within his trousers to stroke him.

"Stop making me wait."

That request was one he was all too happy to comply with, taking a couple seconds to carelessly shove books from the ornate mahogany desk. They made their way to the surface together before he would consent completely to fulfilling their desires. He slid inside her carefully, though not as leisurely as last time, because here there was a greater chance they would be discovered.

So it was a fast, hard fuck that sealed them together this time. Severus gripped the desk edge above Narcissa's head, knuckles whitening, while the witch muffled her impenitent cries in the thick wool at his shoulder. As the desk rattled with each harsh thrust, so too did Severus' sensibilities. It had been a while, and she felt so  _damned_  good.

And 'damned' was indeed the right word. They were damned for certain.

She came squealing into his frock coat. Severus thanked the goddess for his stamina and gave up the ghost, snorting and sweating into his lover's neck. "Oh," he groaned. His back burned from the strain and the angle.

She kissed him, insensible from the sudden, abbreviated pleasure. "I wish we had longer," she murmured.

He kissed her back. "A mistake to wish such things." He forced himself to push away from her. They set about affixing their attire in the warm lamp glow. Silence settled heavily after his words.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He looked at her. In the shadow cast on her face, there may have been tears. Against all better (and reasonable) judgment, he tilted her chin up. "I'm not. We simply have to be…careful."

"And if Lucius knows?"

"Until we know he more than suspects, we needn't worry." He sighed, rubbed a weary hand over a sated face. "In the grand scheme of things, an affair is unimportant. But…"

"But?" Her forehead creased taut.

"But the Dark Lord is currently keeping closely guarded plans. And until we know what they are, we should exercise more caution."

"We should stop," she said.

The ease with which she spoke the words stabbed hot into his stomach, reminding him of hurtful words cast from feminine lips many years earlier. But he was older now, and harder. Colder. He was immune to such hurts. Wasn't he? "Perhaps," he whispered. Her face was unreadable. He hoped his was.

"Right." She peered quietly out the door into the corridor. "Safe," she told him.

"Good. You go ahead."

She nodded, bit her lip. "Severus?"

"Yes?"

"If I…needed you – truly needed you…"

"Come to me," he said simply. She attempted a small smile and left the room. Severus was left leaning against Lucius' badly skewed desk. He sighed and drew his wand, fixed a few broken trinkets, and restored general order to the work area. Her husband was suspicious enough without finding demolished paraphernalia scattered hither and thither. After checking the hallway and finding it clear, he rejoined the unsavory group gathered in the Malfoy drawing room.

The Dark Lord seemed deeply involved in discussion with Lucius, Bellatrix and Dolohov. Severus was glad, and poured himself a jigger of firewhiskey. He sat on a black brocade settee and tried to appear relaxed. He would return to Hogwarts momentarily, and both Firewhiskey and relaxation would be rare.

The solitude didn't last.

"He wants to speak with you."

"Hm?" Severus looked up to see Bellatrix Lestrange leaning provocatively over him.

"I said…the Dark Lord requests an audience with you…privately. Snape." She said his name like it was a curse. Perhaps it was.

"I see." He rose, offered her his empty glass which she took without thought. "Be a dear, Bella, and see to that."

She looked at the tumbler, face souring as she realized his words. She hurled the tumbler at his head. He dodged admirably – and it crashed into the far wall. "Fuck you, you dirty half-blood scat splatter!" A few heads turned toward them, and the dark witch heaved in her corset for a few more seconds. Then, quietly, she snarled. "I don't trust you, Snape. And I think I'm right not to. The only thing that keeps me from hexing your useless tadger off right now is the fact that my lord and master  _does_  trust you. And I trust him, so I have to assume you'll amount to something sooner or later. But if not…" A grin of true relish spread across her face. "I'll eviscerate you, skin you and feed the meat to my sister's birds. Understood?"

He smirked, never once broke eye contact. "Understood, Bella. Where might I find  _our_  lord and master? I believe I've kept him waiting long enough with your trivial chitchat."

"He's in my study." It was not Bella who spoke, but Lucius.

Severus had not heard the blonde wizard's approach…shoddy spy work, really. He turned. "Thank you, Lucius." Malfoy's lip curled. They were still on shaky ground. "If you will both excuse me." He graced them with an elegant half-bow, and swirled out of the room.

He tamped the nervousness that churned his guts, knowing that coming before Voldemort exhibiting anything akin to weakness was tantamount to self-destruction. He also dismissed the idea that the Dark Lord had chosen Lucius' study for their meeting out of any reasoning other than privacy and convenience.

He entered the still dim room, noted the fire now crackling in the grate. He closed the door behind himself quietly, but did not venture any further into the room. "My lord. You requested me."

The only indication Voldemort was in the room was a clawed and serpentine hand resting visibly on the arm of a wingback before the fire. "Severus," the despot sibilated. "Come." The hand gestured vaguely, and Severus knew what to do.

He knelt. Pressed his forehead to the Dark Lord's cold claw. "How may I serve you, my lord?"

"You serve me well enough as you are, Severus. At Hogwarts. In Albus Dumbledore's trust. You do have his trust, do you not?"

"I truly believe so, my lord."

"Look at me."

He knew that looking up meant meeting this wizard's eyes. And that meant legilimency. Occluding would only raise suspicion, so Severus tread the same thin line he always did – closed off the feeling, emotional part of his mind and left the Death Eater part open. It was a most natural existence to him now. Unfortunately in this instance, many of the fresh images his master would encounter involved this very room not an hour earlier.

But it seemed a necessary revelation to Snape, and one that furthered his image as a cold, ruthless bastard like the others. He gave it up with no resistance, and the Dark Lord ate it with a deviant's enjoyment.

"I see," he sussed. "You've been busy this evening, Severus." Snape made no reply, but bowed a little deeper. Voldemort sighed. "This…complicates things."

"My lord?"

"You see…Lucius already suspects you have…behaved inappropriately with his wife. And as you can imagine, I can hardly be troubled with such base and nugatory particulars."

"Of course, my lord. I apologize."

"I didn't ask for your repentance!" Voldemort snapped. He paused, and Severus heard the unmistakable slide of Nagini across the Persian rug beneath them. The snake came to coil at her master's feet, regarded Snape apathetically. "I may find this turn of events…useful to me. I have a mission for Lucius – one in which I expect him to prove himself worthy among my followers. And it may be that a bit of edge is just what he needs to harden his enterprise."

"You…do not wish me to cease my liaison with Narcissa, my lord?"

A coarse, vile chuckle. "No, Severus. By all means, fuck the witch to your contentment! And hers, it appears. The suspicion of it makes her husband the gloriously vicious cold killer I need him to be."

Bile rose in Snape's throat. He swallowed it. "I understand, my lord."

The claw flicked. "Now. Return to Hogwarts."

Thus dismissed, Severus rose and gave one final deep bow. "Thank you, my lord." When he turned on his heel, a clammy hand closed around his forearm, surprising him. "My lord?"

"It surprises me, Severus… That you would take the witch. You've been my self-denier all these years. What's made you change?"

In the darkness, he couldn't make out the Dark Lord's eyes. All the better, really. "I…wanted her for some time, my lord. I assure you it is a purely physical arrangement."

"Is it? Hm." The hand fell away from his arm. "Keep it that way."

Severus left the manor with a chill up his spine and a stone in his gut.

The days seemed to pass quickly enough. Severus was busy with his students, and Umbridge's bidding. The incessant activities of Dumbledore's Army alternately amused, impressed and infuriated him. Children… Endangering themselves in the name of a man whose manipulations they would never truly grasp. But mostly, he kept to himself on the matter unless he was called upon.

And he had been called upon very little by the Dark Lord.

This both frustrated and pleased him. He knew there were workings afoot of which he was unaware. He felt in turns bitterly useless and blissfully ignorant.

He also had not seen Narcissa. And the lack of her gnawed at him like a sickness. It was for the best, he knew. But it didn't stop him wondering how she fared, what she did and if she touched herself to thoughts of him…

Narcissa's days passed miserably slowly. She was alone a great deal, her husband distracted by some menacing or other. This both frustrated and pleased her. She felt terribly distrusted, but blissfully ignorant. Often, her sister nattered on in fervent fanaticism to the Dark Lord, and only once let slip some drivel about retrieving a prophecy, but quickly stopped her tongue and laughed nervously. Narcissa didn't ask questions.

When she did see her husband, he growled conversation and curled his lip at her. She knew there were rumors that she'd carried on with Snape, but thankfully they remained only rumors. If the Dark Lord knew for a fact, she was unaware.

Then the elf showed up. Kreacher. The old, decrepit Black Family slave. And information poured from its cracked lips. Bella and Lucius lapped it up like eager dogs. But soon, as a former Black, Narcissa found herself involved in a manipulation she didn't fully understand herself. But if it brought the Potter brat before the Dark Lord, and ended the imminent danger she felt hovering over her son and herself, she would move mountains…

So she was shocked the evening Lucius burst into their bedchamber, red and seething. He towered over her, some great angry predator, and tossed his lavish cane to their bed.

"Husband!" She looked up from her cushioned vanity bench.

"Am I?" A sudden backhand sent her stumbling to the floor.

"Lucius!" It hurt like hell. She cradled her throbbing jaw and tried to stand. "What the hell?"

His boot in her ribs sent her back to the floor. "What the hell, indeed? You fucking  _whore_!" He wrenched her up by a thick shank of blonde hair, turned her head painfully to face him. "He showed me," he said slowly. "The Dark Lord. He showed me what he saw in Severus' mind. And do you know what he saw?"

She whimpered, reaching for her hair. "Lucius, listen to me…"

But he jerked her to her feet. "Tonight of all nights!" Another sharp slap and she darted away from him, caught around the waist by his strong arm. "When he hands me a golden opportunity to achieve what we've worked so hard toward!"

She struggled, managed to free her right arms and tear her wand from its holster on her kicking leg. "Let me go!" Her struggle won her wiggle room and she swirled away, satin nightgown flaring around her lithe legs. "Damn you, Lucius!" Rage clouded her judgment and numbed her face and ribs. She raised her wand.

Her husband seethed. "You dare raise your wand at me? Your  _husband_?"

"You're no husband!" She shouted.

The force of his next blow knocked her backwards. "Impudent harlot!" He snatched his cane from the bed.

Narcissa righted herself unsteadily against a thick bedpost and stiffened. She'd excelled at defense in her day, and was fully prepared to call upon her skill now, even against her spouse. So expectant was she of a wand duel, she was overwhelmed by the shock of what came.

Her wand flew from her grip. A sick snapping noise said her arm was broken. Blood gushed to her ears, blocking all sound to a deafening white noise.

The cane fell again – merciless on her bare back. The pain was exquisite, worse than anything she'd known. She surrendered to it and fell, mouth open on a quiet scream. Lucius dropped to his knees beside her, hands taking her shoulders. But it wasn't pity that turned her toward him.

There was no light in his bright blue eyes, and those orbs cut her to the core. "You can go to him, then. To Snape," Lucius hissed. "Because when I bring Potter before the Dark Lord…and the Prophecy…he will hail me above all the others. And there will be no place left for a filthy half-blood…or the cast-off whore that was once a proper pureblood wife." With that, he spat on her contorted, bleeding face.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite her pain, Narcissa wasted no time in moving as soon as Lucius left the room. Nor did she bother to contain her whimpers as she took her wand in her good hand. Every movement hurt; apparition was going to be torture. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and went to the only place she knew of where she could find refuge.

As soon as her feet touched the ground outside the gates of the school, she felt the wards. It would be only a matter of minutes before someone came to see who called – she only hoped it wasn't Umbridge. The woman who did come was not her first choice, but at least hers was a face who wouldn't instantly send her away. If Minerva McGonagall was anything, it was thorough. She'd want to know exactly what Narcissa was doing there.

The older woman stood on the other side of the gates, emotions battling behind her glasses as she looked at the Malfoy witch. It was obvious that she had been attacked…but by whom? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or her husband? At one point in time, years and years ago, Minerva may not have cared about the details, but she was wiser now and knew that if it had been the man who caused the world to live in terror, they were likely about to be attacked. Then again… Voldemort didn't typically use the natural means of abuse. He went for his spells. So, she reasoned that it was Lucius who had done this.

Without a word, Minerva allowed the witch to enter and then as one they made their slow way down to the dungeons.

Severus was sitting at the desk in his living quarters, absorbed in a book, when three sharp raps on the door distracted him. Brow furrowed, he shut the tome and stood, wondering who was calling on him. With Albus gone, hardly anyone had the need to talk with him outside of classes or meals. The exception stood right before him when he swung open the door, with a very familiar and very hurt witch beside her. "Minerva?"

"Do what you must, Severus. We need to speak when you're finished. I shall wait here." She ushered Narcissa inside and pulled the door closed, shutting the two from her.

He flicked his wrist to light a couple more candles so he could see better, cursing when he did so, because he didn't like what he saw at all. Busted lip, bruised face, blood, and a broken arm. And that was just what visible. She stood in her nightgown, a thin thing but sufficient enough that it prevented him from seeing any damage that lay beneath it.

Gently, he knelt down and grabbed the hem, pulling upward. She looked nervous, like she was afraid he was going to be mad at her for whatever it was he discovered. Absurd. It was strange, he observed, to be doing this without the intent of settling himself between her thighs. He stood as he moved the silk up, moving her good arm when he reached it so that it slipped through the sleeve and then gently pushing her head down enough to get the gown over it. With that done it was easy enough to avoid moving the other limb.

He tossed the thing to the floor before looking into her eyes, though not yet looking into her mind to see what had happened. He was more concerned with helping her pain. Her blue orbs were shining with as-of-yet unshed tears as she looked back at him, relieved that he had said she could come to him if she needed him. "This will hurt further…" He took her broken arm gently in his left hand, glad the skin hadn't been pierced, and stretched it out. Her response was a whimper and a hiss mixed as she tried weakly to move away so she could cradle her arm again. "Before healing comes pain. Stand still and let me help you."

Finally she did as he asked, and he pointed his wand hand to her arm, softly murmured the spell to mend the broken bones and restore torn ligaments, muscle, tissues. Summoning cloth and a bowl of water, he resumed his examination. Her ribs were battered, the skin discolored. In a couple spots he could see the perfect impression of Lucius' boot…and on her back, a large welt that could come from only one thing.

His jaw worked as he dipped his cloth in the cool liquid and carefully wiped the blood from her face. Dabbing at her lip, he found himself wanting to kiss her. And when he was finished wiping the blood away and began applying a salve to the raised flesh on her back, he still wanted to.

Setting his materials down, he stepped before her again and, this time, did employ legilimency. She didn't fight it; she had no need to because she had nothing to hide from him. The more he saw, the greater his anger became, and when he pulled himself away from Narcissa's mind, he was entertaining thoughts of murdering the filthy wizard.  _If it weren't likely that he'll get his ass kicked tonight anyway…_

He was staring at her lips again. "Fuck it," he muttered beneath his breath before lowering his lips to hers. He was gentle, taking care not to hurt her, cupping her left cheek with a hand while the other rested on her hip. She kissed him back, but when he pulled back slightly she trembled.

"Severus, I can't…we can't…seek pleasure tonight."

His expression was one of barely concealed anger, though it wasn't aimed at her. No, not at all. Her comment rattled him, bringing to mind Minvera's question again. He was slightly hurt that she thought he was trying to get her to have sex tonight, although he reasoned with himself that she wasn't totally in her right mind at the moment. And…if they were truly just playing parts with this thing between them, it was just for sex that they got together.

Except it wasn't. Tonight made that a certainty.

"I didn't dream of it, Narcissa," he breathed against her skin, kissed her once more. "You need to rest. Here, take this." He poured her a few drops of a sleeping potion, watched carefully as she swallowed it. The effects started immediately; she became too unsteady to walk. With a slight sigh, Severus pocketed his wand, then picked her up as gingerly as if she were a porcelain doll and carried her to his bed. She shifted to get under the covers, then tugged them close to her chin and drifted off.

When he was certain she was asleep, he left her, stepping out into the corridor to find Minerva waiting as she had said she would be. And she wasted no time in pouncing on him.

"I thought, Severus, I asked you to keep your business elsewhere. She was not to return to the school."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "And so we have."

Her nostrils flared slightly. "You consider her showing up here again keeping your business away? I hardly think so!"

"I had assumed, when you knocked, that you realized I was not expecting company. Surely if we were going to be entertaining one another here, I would have gone to the gates to get her myself?"

"Perhaps…. But then, what is she doing here?"

He was still seething, and not doing too good a job covering it up. Why had Lucius succeeded at getting under his skin so well? How had this happened? "I told her once that if she ever needed me, to come. Her current situation suffices for needing me."

She cast a look toward his door. "These things never end well, Severus."

He followed her gaze. "Most don't, Minerva. But in her case it seems not to have started well, either."

McGonagall was shaking her head, lips tight. "It's a tight rope you walk, isn't it, Severus? Do you really need another complication?" When he didn't answer, she dug a little deeper. "Still no more than an enjoyable role, then?"

"Dammit, Minerva! There's no one else she can trust."

The older witch stepped toward him, not intimidated in the least. In fact, her wizened finger jabbed his wool-clad chest. "I'm not stepping into someone else's shite, Severus Snape. But I don't want some Death Eater storming this castle looking for his wife. I have children to protect here, and I intend to do so. You see to her, then you get her back into her proper bed. Hear?"

He scowled, but nodded tersely. "You're well understood, Minerva."

She stepped back. "Good." Sniffed. Looked at the door behind him. "Is she alright, then?"

Snape almost smirked. The Deputy Headmistress may have come across as a thick-skinned bat, but her concern belied that image. "She'll be fine."

Minerva nodded. "Good." She sniffed again, opened her mouth for what was probably another tirade, but was interrupted by noise up the corridor. Snape hushed her with a gesture and stepped forward, raising his wand for extra light.

It was Draco Malfoy. And Severus recognized a few more members of Umbridge's Inquisition Squad, as well. 'Wonderful,' he thought.

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall trilled. "What brings you wandering the corridors during a class period?"

"Official business of the Headmistress." The Malfoy boy postured almost as well as his father did. Severus' lip curled at the mere mental image of Lucius Malfoy. "She requests your assistance, Professor Snape." The sniveling little gobshite gave a curt bow.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I shall attend to her directly." The boy whirled away, towing his lackeys, and Severus couldn't help thinking that Lucius' being brought down a peg or two would probably benefit his son a great deal. He looked to Minerva. "If you will excuse me?"

She gave a sweeping gesture. "By all means. Don't let me keep you from attending the Pink Nightmare."

He clenched his mouth to withhold a laugh. Minerva could be delightfully mean-spirited… He started purposefully up the hallway, stopped by a throat clearing behind him. He turned to see McGonagall cocking her head toward his door. "Shall I…listen out for her? Until you return?"

He blinked, momentarily stunned. "Yes. If you don't mind."

She ruffled. "I don't. Do hurry. I've essays to grade."

But it was an hour before he returned, slamming open the door of his quarters, red-faced and blustering. Minerva leapt from a comfortable chair before his fire. Obviously, he'd startled her. "Severus!"

"Imbeciles," he muttered. He paced before her, robes snapping at his ankles and flapping wing-like about his body. He ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Half-cocked, as usual. Flying off like…like children!"

"Who are you speaking of?" She whispered loudly.

"The Dark Lord has seen fit to lure Potter to the Department of Mysteries. And – as expected – the fool boy has taken the bait. I had to alert the Order of the Phoenix."

"Oh my!" McGonagall's hand flew to her mouth. "Will Harry be alright?"

Severus leaned on his mantel, rubbed a hand over his face. "I hope so," he muttered. 'I made a promise. Long ago. I hope so.' Then he turned to Minerva. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long. I assume she did not stir?"

"Not at all." The Scot held out a rumpled bit of satin. "I mended this. Got the…blood stains out, too. I'm certain she'll want something on when she wakes."

Severus took the nightgown slowly. Met his comrade's eyes just as slowly. "Thank you, Minerva." He rarely said the words, but when he did, he meant them. "I assure you her presence here will not disturb the peace of Hogwarts." 'As I'm certain the peacekeepers shall be quite distracted elsewhere for the moment,' he added mentally.

McGonagall just nodded curtly. She left with no further comment.

Severus sighed in the silence. He entered his darkened bedroom, slipping carelessly out of his robes. He saw the bundle of witch in the bed. Tried to pretend she was there after one of their usual escapades. Tried to ignore the nerves gnawing at his belly, the exhaustion creeping into his very joints. He undressed and slid easily into bed, curled around her.

"Hmmph." She shifted in the unfamiliar embrace, tensed violently. "Lucius…no…" She murmured in sleep.

Severus winced. "Not Lucius," he whispered. He kissed her shoulder and she grew more aware.

"Severus?" Memory returned like a drizzle. "Oh… I should go!" She was suddenly sitting up, cradling a fuzzy and probably aching head.

"No." He drew her back into the thick duvet, into the soft embrace of a goose down mattress, into his arms. "Rest longer. Lucius is…preoccupied at the moment. And you are safer here."

She turned to face him, kissed his chin, his jaw. "Safer? Is everything alright?"

He stroked her back, soothing. "It will be, I imagine. It will be." He kissed her hairline, and despite what she'd said earlier, felt her moving against him in that familiar invitation. "Narcissa," he whispered. "You don't have to –"

"I want to." She hushed him with her mouth on his. As if to spite every ache, every bruise or missed scratch on her body, she called this wizard to take her. She knew - instinctively – he'd healed her with his wand, and he could heal her with his flesh.

Gently, slowly and almost reverently, he acceded to her desires. It was different. In a bed, for one. But so much more… They'd never shared so much bare skin, so much bare emotion. He'd never kissed so much of her, tasted so many secrets, heard these new gasps, growls and wanton supplications. And he'd never known such tenderness in her hands, or the burning in her teary eyes.

He'd never made love. And when he pulled her onto his lap, recognized shock and pure wonder on her features, he realized she'd never made love, either. It was the most wonderful and terrifying discovery of his life.

They collapsed into his sheets sated and stuck together with sweat. Narcissa stroked thick strands of hair from his face and kissed his closed eyes. "Shall I go now?" She asked softly.

He tightened arms around her possessively. "No. Not yet. Sleep." He was so tired… Slumber was claiming him fast, and still his mind was awhirl. 'I'll protect this witch. And another's son. The children of this school. Who next?'


	6. Chapter 6

His early morning came even earlier today – too early for the pair's liking, which was a surprise for Severus. Usually he couldn't wait to be away from the images that sleep brought, but they had been absent, replaced by delightful ones of the woman who he was laying with. She was as close as she could get to him, her head tucked against his neck, one arm curled to her and the other resting near his hip. It was strange, he noted, to be doing this. And to find that he didn't mind. He watched the duvet rise and fall with her every breath, losing track of the time. When he did move again, several minutes later, it was to get her to wake.

Lightly he touched her neck and progressed downward, pushing up the duvet and trailing his fingers over her warm skin. She stirred when he brushed her chest, making a little sound that was either a mew or a murmur; he couldn't tell which. He stopped progressing down, unsure how her bruises fared, and instead let his hand rest right beneath her breast. She stirred again, pressing against him more, tilted her head up. It was a bit of an awkward angle, but he managed well enough, and kissed her.

Her eyes remained closed until the kiss ended, a small smile playing about her lips. "Severus," she breathed.

"Did you expect someone else?" His tone was almost teasing, just serious enough that she didn't want to respond. They both knew that the someone else, should she answer yes, would be Lucius…and neither was in the mood to think of him just yet.

"It's just…a change. Waking up here…with you…"

He nodded, pushed a strand of hair back from her face. "A pleasant one, I presume."

Her hand slipped down from his hip, fingers dancing lightly up the length of his arousal. "Most pleasing."

At her touch Severus felt his breath catch in his throat, along with his response. It was dangerous, what she could do to him. Lips close to his, she spoke to him again. "I didn't thank you for helping me last night."

Voice an octave lower than normal, he responded. "Staying was all the thanks you needed to give."

She pushed against his chest slightly to get him to roll over onto his back, moved on top of him with a slight wince. Her ribs were still sore, the bruises nastier shades than they had been, but not sore enough to inhibit her. Last night he had done most of the exploring, but it was her turn now, and she was amazed at the difference between when their affair had begun and now. Now, she was beginning to understand the secrets to this man…now she knew what it was like to be treasured, and she knew that he did too. A smile graced her features as she finally let him have his way, rolling them over so he was above her.

His body urged him to hurry, to sate itself, but Severus forced himself to take things slow. He entered her as slowly, it felt, as a snail. Beneath him, she tried to speed things up, bucking her hips, and he kissed her neck. "We'll not be disturbed. Calm down."

She relaxed at his words, kissed his earlobe sweetly. "Severus?"

"Mm?" It was hard enough to concentrate when she felt the way she did. Must she insist on speaking in that breathless whisper?

She whimpered. "Will you talk to me?"

His face buried itself in her neck. "Oh, gods Narcissa…" It was his turn to speed things up. But he didn't deny her request. He held her face in his hands and between kisses, told her she was beautiful, perfect, that she felt like the heavens, that he could never hurt her, that he would kill the wizard who did, that he wanted her, and most frighteningly – that she was his. And though in that moment, the words may not have mattered as much as his voice did, he knew that what was said was said. And there was no denying passion loosened his tongue and was more effective than the strongest dose of Veritaserum.

She clutched him in her ecstasy, milked his essence with her greedy want.

When they both lay spent several minutes later, they spooned like proper lovers. Narcissa closed her eyes with contentment, surrounded by material that smelled like the man: spicy. And she was surrounded by the man, himself. Drifting into a doze, she recalled some of the things he'd said only moments earlier and blushed.

His voice did incredible things to her body, but some of his words had her mind quite aquiver, as well. She bit her lip, now awakened by worry. Severus shifted behind her, rose reluctantly. "Alright?" She asked timidly.

He sighed. "I've duties to the school I must keep. And I suspect there shall be news of Potter…and your husband."

She sat up. "If Lucius fails…"

"Between the Ministry and the Dark Lord, he will be destroyed."

She blinked calmly. "And Draco? Myself? In that house full of his followers and…him. What will become of us?"

"You must be strong," he answered. "Keep quiet and out of the way. Rely on your sister's allegiance when you must. And I will be here. You know that."

She nodded. Reluctantly, they parted from the warm bed and dressed. Severus wrapped the witch in a cloak of his own – black of course, with an ungodly amount of buttons. She smiled softly as she fingered them. "Always so buttoned, Severus."

"You see me unbuttoned." He raised her hood and saw her discretely to the Hogwarts gates. Dawn was breaking pink and grey over the highlands. It was a beautiful day for horrible news.

They didn't kiss, as usual. But they wanted to. And just before she apparated away, he called to her. "Narcissa. Prepare for the worst."

She was glad he'd warned her. As soon as she sneaked into the manor's main doors, she was greeted by screaming. It came from the drawing room – many voices. Male, mostly, but the female voice among them was by far the loudest.

"Fucking children!" Bella was shouting. "Potter and his whelps! I should have killed him! I should have done it when I had the chance!"

"And the Dark Lord would have killed you, Bella!" A man shouted back. Yaxley, perhaps? "He wants Potter alive."

"And he almost had him!" Another man piped up. Narcissa skittered past the open archway as quietly as possible.

"He would have killed the boy!" Bella insisted. "But damned Dumbledore – Cissy!"

 _Damn!_  Narcissa stopped and Bellatrix caught hold of her shoulders. "Yes, sister?"

"Where the fucking hell have you been, witch? I was roaming this house like a dementor looking for you!"

She swallowed thickly. "I had to –"

"Went to Snape, then?" Bella shook her. "Stupid, Cissy. Stupid! Lucius said he tried to talk to you yesterday about –"

"Talk to me?" Narcissa's anger flared hot. "He beat me! Then he  _told_  me to go to Snape! So I did! And I don't give a damn in hell what my husband thinks!"

"You shouldn't," Yaxley drawled from the door.

The witches – surprised at being overheard – snapped eyes to the lanky wizard. "What?" Narcissa asked.

"Yaxley!" Bella hissed. "I said I would tell her!"

"Well, then tell her, you moon-eyed lunatic! Before she reads it in the damn Daily Prophet from that bloody slag Skeeter."

"Read what?" Narcissa glanced between the two Death Eaters. "Before I read what, Bella?"

Bellatrix's jaw jutted up and out. "Lucius is in Azkaban," she said bluntly. "He was knocked out at the Ministry in a duel and arrested."

"I see." A wave of both relief and dread washed over Narcissa. "Anyone else lost?"

A slow, triumphant grin spread over Bella's face. "I killed Sirius Black," she boasted.

"Sirius…" Narcissa was shaking her head. Too much to process. "Our  _cousin_  Sirius?"

Bella nodded, tongue sweeping over her teeth in that way she had of gloating. "Seriously."

"Oh." Images of Sirius as a child flashed through her mind. They'd been close in age, and had played together a few times as youths. But, growing up had sent them down very different paths. And she recalled Sirius had been considered a traitor to the Black family – a traitor to the blood. 'What blood?' She thought. Her eyes flicked to Bella's dancing eyes. 'Blood that murders its own?'

She suddenly felt nauseous and tired. "I'm going to lie down, sister," she murmured. "Wake me if I'm…needed." As she climbed the stairs gingerly, she heard Bella calling her name. Eventually, the calls became muffled, and disappeared altogether. In her room, where silence reigned, she sank down onto the very vanity bench she had been sitting at when her husband's attack had begun and put her head in her hands.

Her life was a mess. Or was it? Lucius complicated so many things, so the news of his arrest made her feel for a moment that she could breathe in peace. The illusion wasn't one she allowed herself to keep; the next instant she realized that although he was in Azkaban, he was still here, in a way. It had been him who had brought the Dark Lord and his followers to Malfoy Manor… Narcissa may have agreed with the wizard's views, but she didn't like her home being the base of operations. The Ministry had already called on them plenty of times, to do raids. What would happen if they came now, and found the darkest wizard of the age? She didn't want to dwell on that.

Nor did she want to dwell on the thought of what this turn of events meant to her affair with Severus. She was sure they would be able to continue – apparently, it hadn't been forbidden by the head of operations. That wasn't what worried her. She was more concerned about the effects that this would have on Draco. If he found out…

Her musing was interrupted by a rapping on the door. "I see you didn't end up lying down. Not tired anymore?" Bella didn't wait for an invitation to enter, just waltzed in and moved to stand right behind her sister. She settled a hand on Narcissa's shoulder.

"While my body is, my mind is not." Was this what Severus felt like all the time with his role as a spy, constantly having to figure out his course of action so that neither side would be suspicious of his actions?

Bella snickered. "I'm sure. Snape kept you busy, didn't he?"

Narcissa blushed at her sister's words. "It has nothing to do with Severus and everything to do with Lucius."

It was clear that the darker witch didn't believe her. "Personally, I would have chosen someone else. Guess you like the dodgy sort, though."

"What did you want, Bella?" Her tone was weary.

"Not me. Him."

She jerked her head toward the doorway, where Narcissa noticed a shadow. Bella's hand moved from her shoulder as Voldemort entered, smiled at the man as she took a step forward. Narcissa rose, knelt like she was supposed to. "How may I serve you, my lord?"

Voldemort chuckled. It was a chilling sound. "My dear Mrs. Malfoy. You have served me more than you can know merely in your…service…to another." He glanced about her room, ignored her humiliated blush. "Now it is for your son to offer his services to me."

"My son?" The chill devoured her spine. "What do you mean, my lord?"

"I mean that Draco is to enter into my circle, mother." The Dark Lord circled her, looking upon her like a slave to be bought or sold. "He takes the Dark Mark soon. And…will fulfill a task most noble for me. As I have found his father more than lacking."

"A task, my lord?" She shook.

But he was leaving, wasting no more breath on her. Bellatrix lingered in the doorway, watching her master leave with undisguised worship on her face.

"Bella." Her sister entreated. "Bella! Please!"

"Hm?" Finally, Bella regarded her as if in second thought. "What, Cissy?"

"What is this task? Do you know?" At Bella's grin and dismissive wave, Narcissa rounded on the dark witch. She shook Bella by the shoulders, desperation and mania tingeing her voice. "Tell me, goddamn you! You know!"

Bella laughed, throwing her head back. "Oh, Cissy! You should be so very proud!"

"Proud of what, Bella? What is my son to do? TELL ME!"

Bella whirled away from Narcissa, eyes suddenly black, lips curled away from rotted teeth. "His task I envy!" She spat. "To  _kill_ Albus Dumbledore? Glory I would embrace – should embrace! But…" She poked a finger into Narcissa's chest. "He is offered it to atone for his father's dismal failure  _which I witnessed!_ " She spoke quickly and loudly over Cissa's protesting groans.

"No, no, no, Bella! My son is not a murderer. He's no Death Eater!"

"He is now!" Bella shoved her sister ungraciously. Narcissa gasped as she fell against her bed. "Listen to me, Cissy!" Bella crawled atop Cissa awkwardly. "If Draco fails –"

"Get off me!" Narcissa struggled for her wand, tucked beneath the thick folds of Severus' borrowed cloak.

"I said listen!" Bella roared, taking Narcissa by the chin roughly. "If he fails…the Dark Lord will kill him. And perhaps you. And your useless twat of a husband will rot in Azkaban while dementors fight over his last shred of sanity."

"NO!" With surprising force, Narcissa shoved her sister away. Bella stumbled, laughing. "I won't allow it." Cissa rose quaking from the bed. "I won't!"

"There's nothing you can do, Cissy!" Bella insisted, hanging into the room by the doorframe. "He's spoken."

Narcissa advanced on the gloating lunatic. "No. He's my son. This is  _my_ home. I  _do_ have a say, Bella! And I  _will_ have my way." Her wand slid from her sleeve to her hand and she flashed it boldly in Bella's scoffing face. "Get out of my room."

Bella's mocking expression fell into a shocked gape. "You bitter bitch," she murmured. "I'm your sister!"

"I know." Narcissa took another step forward. "That's why I would hate to kill you. I think enough Black family blood has been shed by Black family hands for an eternity. Now. I'm telling you to get out. I want to be alone."

Bella didn't offer a fight, but she did linger for a few seconds longer, twiddling her fingers before her and pouting in that incessant way Narcissa had come to despise. "Alright," she said calmly. "I'll go." She turned to leave, but couldn't resist throwing over her shoulder, "And next time you wear Snape's clothes home, Cissy? Make sure your breath doesn't reek of his cock."

Narcissa roared as she slammed the door after her sadistic sibling.


	7. Chapter 7

Severus had hoped to see her after the news of Lucius' arrest had been given, or even when he had gone to the manor for meetings called by Voldemort. That he hadn't seen her bothered him – and the fact that it bothered him, bothered him. He wasn't used to people worming under his skin such as she had been able to do. And since he had sent her home in his own cloak (a rather strange move for him), it had been even harder to get her out of his mind. In fact, he was sitting in his favorite chair in the drawing room, thinking of the only night they had spent together, when he heard a knock on the door.

Narcissa stood shivering, her sister beside her, still trying to discourage her from coming. She'd just about had enough of Bella; the witch was constantly making jibes about Severus or working with Draco. Her son was no killer, she knew that, but he was desperate to prove to the Dark Lord that the Malfoy family was not as full of shame as Lucius' failures set it up to be. And he was angry at her. Bella had encouraged that. Most of her remarks about the affair were made in front of Draco so that he was constantly reminded of his mother's 'treachery'. What hurt the mother the worst was that he hadn't even considered the fact that his father had taken many women besides Narcissa over the years, whereas she had taken only one man.

That very man opened the door amidst her musings. "Narcissa! What a pleasant surprise!" He noticed her sister, opened the door further.

"Severus, may I speak to you? It's urgent." She whispered the words, uncomfortable in this muggle neighborhood. How could he stand it here?

He nodded. "But of course." Hadn't he told her that if she ever needed him, to come?

She hardly paid them attention as they exchanged their terse greetings, used to the behavior exhibited between the two. Neither trusted the other, though in Severus' defense, that was probably smart. Bella was a canon apt to be set off at the slightest touch. While the other two played their little word game (Bella trying to prove the man's disloyalty and him making her seem to not hold faith in their master), Narcissa watched Severus. He looked…different to her. Stiff. Almost angry. Wary.

The conversation moved to one between she and Severus, with her almost breaking law and speaking of Draco's task. She was relieved beyond measure when Severus said that he already knew of the plan. And she was surprised that she didn't completely begin to break down for the length of time that she did. When the tears did begin to roll down her cheeks, she saw him through blurry eyes, noted that he was watching her. And she wished that her sister hadn't forced her company on this trip.

"Then I am right, he has chosen Draco in revenge! He does not mean him to succeed, he wants him to be killed trying!" She chocked on sobs, tasted salt, nearly bit her tongue, disregarded the fact that this was going to give her sister and anyone else who found out about it something to talk about. Somehow she managed to get to her feet, practically threw herself at her lover, and thought – as she grabbed fabric in either first – that it was weird to be this close to him and not be able to actually touch him.

They were so close. So damn close! A mere inch was all that separated their lips, and only clothes separated their bodies. Even in the strained situation, Narcissa could feel his arousal against her belly. Fire pooled in her belly as she let herself entertain a thought of just leaning forward, of telling Bella to fuck off. But she didn't do it. Instead, she forced herself to act like she didn't notice. "You could do it.  _You_ could do it instead of Draco, Severus. You would succeed, of course you would, and he would reward you beyond all of us-"

He grabbed her wrists gently but forcefully, wrestled his clothing free from her grip, and looked down at her. Tears still swam in her eyes but she could see well enough to recognize that dangerous fire in his gaze, the fire that had gotten her their first time. He wanted her terribly, but he had enough decency to refrain from doing anything in front of company. And there were other things there too, things that she didn't want to dwell on when she was trying to come up with a way to get her son out of the damned plan that had been cooked up by Voldemort. Surely the wizard knew that Draco could never force himself to kill…surely he knew that Snape was the better choice. How many people  _had_ the professor killed? She didn't know the number, but knew that it was plenty, even if he hadn't committed any murders in nearly sixteen years.

Increased pressure on her wrists made her swallow, pay attention again.

"He intends me to do it in the end, I think. But he is determined that Draco should try first. You see, in the unlikely event that Draco succeeds, I shall be able to remain at Hogwarts a little longer, fulfilling my useful role as spy." He spoke carefully, guarding his words.

"In other words, it doesn't matter to him if Draco is killed!" Unspoken words lingered in the air.  _In other words, you don't care either. In other words, it doesn't matter to you if Draco is killed, so long as you get to continue with your precious spy work!_

He gave a very slight sigh. "The Dark Lord is very angry. He failed to hear the prophecy. You know as well as I do, Narcissa, that he does not forgive easily." He lowered his voice, gently let her fall to his feet as her body was consumed by even more tears. It was amazing, he thought, how many one person could contain.

Then, almost suddenly, she had asked him to make an Unbreakable Vow and Severus was kneeling down before her, clasping her forearm and she was clasping his. Bella had her wand aimed toward their arms, was asking questions, and with each "I will" that echoed around the small room, a tongue of flame shot forth, until finally there was a chain of fire binding them together. In the glow of it, Narcissa watched Severus' eyes as he watched hers, thinking that the vows he had just made were almost as serious as wedding vows.

And that thought made her take in a sharp breath, the impact of what they had just done hitting her straight in the chest. She had just placed her son's life in the hands of this man… And Severus had  _taken_ the Vow. Others may think it was just because Bella said he wouldn't, that she had dared him to do it, but Narcissa knew him better than that.

Reluctantly they stood, let go of one another. Bella was huffing about needing to return to attend to the Dark Lord, and Narcissa had to admit that she disliked being in such close proximity to both magicians here. She shared a brief, sizzling look with Severus before ducking out his door without another word, drawing her hood up once more.

Back at the manor, they went their separate ways; Bella went to do whatever it was that she did for Voldemort and Narcissa poked her head into her son's room. He was still awake, lounging on his bed in a pair of black trousers and a grey shirt that matched the shade of his eyes. Before him lay a book, one she recognized as one of Severus' because of the cramped handwriting in the margins. From the looks of it, the book had been one of his Defense Against the Dark Arts books. An amusing thought, that, since the notes he had taken in it were the exact opposite of what the class was trying to teach.

"Draco." Her voice was quiet, gentle.

He looked up, stiffening. "Mother. You were out late."

"I had a…errand to run. Bella accompanied me."

The relief on his face was astonishing, though he didn't relax. "You'll be heading to bed, then?"

"Soon." She walked further into the room and nodded at his book. "Enjoyable reading?"

He shrugged. "The text is lacking."  _But the notes are spectacular._

"One of Severus'?"

His face hardened again in response.

"He doesn't lend his books out often. Take care with it." She watched as he sighed.

"I doubt he would miss it. He seems to know the topic well enough."

"Even so… Be sure to return it when you're through with it." She shifted her weight, antsy and suddenly very eager to leave again. Returning sounded like quite a good idea at the moment. "Night."

He didn't respond, but she hardly noticed, flying to her room (and she could truly call it hers, for the time being, with Lucius being locked away) and significantly changing her attire.

Severus was sitting in his drawing room again, reading a recently published issue of a potions journal he wrote for, when he heard another knock on his door. He sighed and stood. On most occasions, he would be more than happy to send Wormtail to serve as butler but tonight the vermin was hostling to the Dark Lord. And so he went himself, checking out the window first. A single witch stood there, hood down, with blonde hair. He quirked his head, wondering why she would visit twice in one night when she hadn't contacted him nearly all summer.

Still, he opened the door. "You are alone?" At her nod, he stepped back to let her enter and then closed the door.

"Are you?" she asked. At his nod, her lips curved into a slight smile. "Excellent."

He was curious as to why she had returned, though not eager to press the matter. A chance to see her twice in the same day was seldom granted, even if one of the instances had not been as pleasant as he had hoped. Hopefully this one would be better.

Narcissa began to unbutton her coat, and he stepped forward to help her from behind. She put her arms out behind her and he tugged gently on the sleeves, started to turn to hang the garment up and ended up dropping it instead. The witch had come with no clothes beneath the garment, a most pleasant surprise that left him with a rare gape and tight trousers.

But his paralysis was brief.

He put his arms around her waist from behind, strong hands splayed out over her stomach, and kissed the side of her neck. "Gods, witch." She shivered beneath him, leaned backward into his warmth. "I'm glad you came back." His hands didn't stay still for long, beginning to wander upward to cup her breasts. "I've missed your body." He rubbed calloused fingers over her pert nipples until she wasn't staying still any longer, and then she turned herself around in his grasp.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's been impossible to get away. Bella…" This time she didn't even bother trying to undo the buttons she found so infuriating, just snatched his wand from its normal place amongst the folds of his cloak and gave it a flick. The wood felt warm in her hand when she gave it a little swish, almost as though it felt at home there, and her eyes lit up with a surprised sort of victory as the hardest part of her task was completed. Spotting a small table in the hall, she set Severus' wand on it and then helped him slither out of his clothes.

He was awkwardly backing her toward the little table behind her when one of her high-heeled feet trod on his bare toes. "Oh!" She looked down.

"It's fine," he growled into her neck. The table was cold against her bum.

"My shoes –"

"Nice shoes," he interrupted, rubbing over her ankle and up her calf.

"Severus!" He insinuated himself naturally between her legs. A still-shoed foot rubbed against his hip. "Can we? Here?"

He knew it was dangerous, taking her here in the hallway. Wormtail could return at any moment. He moaned as she nipped his earlobe.  _So be it._

He wanted her terribly, she could tell, but he was determined to make her wait. Payback for recent weeks? Possibly. And hell, who was she kidding? It wasn't as if she  _really_ cared because she knew that he couldn't hold out the whole night. Not with her already naked…

Long, dexterous fingers slipped over her tensing thigh to sample her readiness. She bucked into the touch as one slid slickly inside her. "Oh, yes!"

"Hell, witch…" A second finger joined the first. "Does your sweet cunt weep for every wizard who gives you an Unbreakable Vow?" The fingers set a teasing rhythm, twisting and exploring.

"Only for you," she managed. Her head lolled on her shoulders, banged into the plaster wall at her back. "Only you would do such a thing for me!" He gave a soft growl as her hands danced about his hips, dipped down to cup and stroke. "Only you can make me feel this way." He gave a little jerk, then his free hand was tangled in her hair and holding the back of her neck while he crushed her lips with his. She pushed away. "Severus, please!"

"What are you begging for now, Narcissa?" His thumb circled her excited clit. She keened. "You have my word…is it my flesh you want?"

"Yes!" She was breathless, wanton. "I want you inside me!"

He watched her eyes darken with lust. "Then you shall have that, too." He entered her suddenly, forcefully. She cried out and the table creaked and shook with the cadence he set. She whimpered and clutched at his buttocks til she drew blood there.

It was what they were, in essence: blood, spit, sweat and vows both unbreakable and broken.

"I will take you to my bed," he promised. "…I'll make love to you like a proper lady…" She panted at his words. "…but right now, Narcissa…" Her name on his lips made her shudder. "I need you to come right here…like a slut."

It was a command she could neither deny nor ignore. "Yes! I-I will!" The tickle began to curl her toes. "Oh, it's too good…" The tickle spread, heated, melted. "I will, Severus!"

"Then shut up and do it." His mouth arced over hers forcefully. He swallowed her cries in his mouth, heard a shoe thud to his floor, felt her seize and fracture around him. His own forehead slammed into the wall over her shoulder and he bit the tender place at the base of her neck, groaned as he emptied into her.

Narcissa, sticky and shocky, soothed his abused arse cheeks with sweet caresses. "There, there," she murmured to him. His balls contracted against her in time with his uneven breaths. "So good, Severus…"

Their bodies made a sickly peeling sound as they separated. He helped her to the floor, and she kicked out of her remaining shoe. "You missed me," she murmured.

He nodded solemnly, avoiding her gaze.

"I missed you." The words were hesitant, almost frightened. And he understood the feeling. A feminine clearing of the throat. "You said something about your bed?"

"Of course." Unashamed, they gathered their clothes and wands. Severus took his lover's slender hand. "Come." He led her up his darkening stairs, murmuring lumos softly when they reached the landing, where it was too dark to precede safely without light. The trip down the hall was a short one, his room the first on the left. It was hardly anything that could be considered spectacular when one knew what the witch was used to living in, but he figured she didn't mind. She had come here for one purpose and one purpose alone. Hadn't she?

He cleared his throat as he set his wand down on the nightstand beside the bed, stood beside it awkwardly as she set her clothes down on a chair. His gaze stayed on her as she bent over, tracing the curves of her body and noting the way her muscles moved when she shifted back upright. When she caught him looking at her, she blushed. It was still strange for her, this being admired, he knew. She was used to her husband just coming and taking what he believed to be his… But now, Lucius had gotten himself locked in Azkaban. And where did that leave his wife? Alone. Vulnerable. With needs.

Severus licked his lips slightly, looking away from Narcissa's eyes as she came to stand before him again. They were dangerous, those eyes.

"I wasn't nervous at my own house, where we could have been caught… but in yours…" She traced a pattern on his chest, looked over toward his bed. He took the cue and slipped onto it, throwing back the covers first, and pulled her after him.

"New territory. But I assure you; in here we will be left alone." If Wormtail did as he was supposed to, and avoided coming upstairs upon his return. Severus had issued the order early on, not wishing to be disturbed in his work. It was bad enough that he had to have the vermin under his roof; he refused to give up having any privacy at all.

She was relieved. "Good…"

They lay together for a time, silent, waiting. Severus had begun to doze off when he felt her shifting in his arms, rolling over. Kisses soft as feathers ghosted his jaw while a hand applied gentle pressure to his chest and the other made circles on his lower back. He opened his eyes, flexed stiff fingers. "Narcissa?"

"Hmm?" She was at his neck now.

His joints took on movement of their own, deft hands flitting about her hips and waist. "You appear…most anxious." He felt his cock begin to harden again as her breasts caught his eye.

She smirked, kissed her way down to the planes of his stomach. "And you appear to be appreciating it." Her tongue dipped out, swirled around, and then she sat back. With one of her hands she scraped the skin of his thighs lightly, going as close to his groin as possible but refusing to touch him. He jerked as he rose from half-mast to full attention, body seeking to get the gratification it so wanted.

He didn't respond verbally, but managed to snake one of his hands forward, brushing pale skin, until he was able to slip a finger swiftly within her. She was nearly dripping with anticipation. "Stop waiting, witch, we've done enough of that all summer." He wanted to be in her.

For once, she didn't let him roll them over and leant forward to kiss him. As their tongues battled for dominance, she lifted her hips to slip down over the tip of him, swallowing his growl as he gave a buck and pushed himself the rest of the way in. As one they began to move. Within a few seconds her arms trembled from trying to hold herself up, and she gave in, collapsing on top of him. He gave another growl as he had to stop moving, flipped them over.

"Severus?" She sounded so breathless again, was nearly panting.

"Yes?"

"Will you-" Her question was choked off by sudden pleasure, and she trembled as he continued with his current pace.

But he knew what she wanted, and settled his mouth over hers once more before whispering into her ear. He repeated things he had said last time, though with more force, and kept repeating one line in particular:  _You're mine_.

Beneath him, Narcissa rocked her hips, feeling her toes start to curl again, and shivered at his words. He had said the same things last time as he was now, but now he seemed more serious. To be frank, that both terrified and delighted her. If she was his, then that meant he still didn't plan to quit what they had, that she was still pleasing him – perhaps more so than she originally had. But what else did it mean?

"Oh Merlin, witch. You're the only one…" He trailed off, unable to finish his statement. He felt her seizing up around him and then exploding, heard her whispering his name, and the aftershocks of her pleasure drove him over the edge. His balls tightened to the point of nearly being agonizing and then he was biting her neck again as he emptied himself into her, breathing jagged.

He was loathe to separate from her. Running his tongue over the skin he had just broken and bruised, he had an entertaining thought. What if they didn't have to move? What if they got each other aroused just like this? It was interesting, but he knew he wouldn't do it. That would take away some of the delight. And so, reluctantly, he slipped from her and settled his arms around her as she cuddled against him, nuzzling his neck.

"I still didn't treat you like a proper lady."

"No, you didn't." She inhaled the scent of cedar, closed her eyes contentedly.

"I need to fix that." One hand rubbed a lazy circle between her shoulder blades.

"Mhm." She gave a soft laugh. "And that will give Wormtail laundry to do."

He smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

He had known for a while that the day would come – and he had been dreading it. It and the repercussions, for once the act was done…well, there wouldn't be much left for him to do in the ways of honoring his vow to help Dumbledore. And until the Ministry was taken over he wouldn't be free to move about as he wished.

Shouts from below the astronomy tower were muffled by the time that they reached him, so that he couldn't make out what words they were supposed to be. Curses, most of them, but others would be pleas for help. He took a moment to stand in silence, listening to what was happening, before bursting through the door to the ramparts with his wand out, clutched in his right hand. His eyes swept over the scene before him, which was similar to what he had envisioned it would be. Dumbledore was slumped against the stone, looking at three – no, four, he had to remember to count Draco now – Death Eaters.

And even though he couldn't see Potter, he could feel the boy's presence.

"We've got a problem, Snape, the boy doesn't seem able-" Amycus's words were lost on him, another dull noise in the background. Another voice, much softer than the lumpy servant's, and weak too, called a single name and it was that voice that had most of his attention.

"Severus…"

Dumbledore was pleading with him, and it chilled him, because he knew what the wizard was pleading for.  _Death_.

Without a word, Severus strode forward, not even attempting to be polite when he reached Draco. The boy had been insolent the entire year, having learned of his mother's affair, and he was just in the way now. As he pushed him out of his way, Severus' expression was one of disgust and his bearing one of power. The Death Eaters fell back without protest, seeming to cower behind him.

"Severus…please…"

Severus looked at Dumbledore, revulsion and hatred plain in the lines of his face. He hated the man for making him to do this. But it was better that he be the one to do it, not Draco. And he had nothing left to live for anyway, should he get caught. A slight breeze picked up, blowing past him, and he thought he could smell a very familiar perfume. His breath caught in his throat. He did have something to live for, even if he didn't want to admit it, and she was going to castrate him if he didn't do this.

Finally he swallowed, and stared down at the man who had been reduced to a sorry state because of a curse and a potion. Picturing him as he had been during the first wizarding war, Severus was able to drive out the part of him that felt any emotion and to let the side he showed the Dark Lord come out. He raised his wand. " _Avada Kedavra!_ "

His breathes came rapidly as he watched the jet of green light hit the headmaster in the chest, and then as Dumbledore was blasted into the night air and fell from sight. He allowed himself a split second to close his eyes and mourn the loss, and then he embraced the numbness again. "Out of here, quickly."

The others seemed frozen, especially Draco. He scowled and grabbed the boy by the neck and then shoved him through the door, hoping that with luck he could make it away from the school quickly.

Luck, as it were, was not entirely on his side. Potter managed to catch him, and then Hagrid's damned hippogriff had shown up. When he finally managed to get outside the school's gates and disapparate, he had never been happier.

Finally he and Draco made it to Malfoy Manor, and once they passed through the wrought iron gates that guarded the place, the young boy wasted no time expressing his displeasure at his glory being stolen. It was all Severus could do to keep from shouting at him to shut up, and only the thought of Narcissa kept him walking forward.

He walked inside without knocking on the door, knowing that he was expected anyway. His and Draco's footsteps echoed in the house as they entered the drawing room. The master, the nutcase, and the beauty sat in a silence that was broken by a sob of delight from Narcissa. She almost leapt from her chair, remaining seated only because of a withering look shot at her by Voldemort. The Dark Lord's expression changed to one of amusement quickly, which confused her, until she looked away from him and noticed that Severus had come to her. He bent down over her seat, his right hand on the armrest. The other hand quickly cupped her cheek as his thumb stroked her jaw, and then he was tangling it in her hair and pressing his lips to hers.

Behind them, Draco glared and blushed at the same time, surprised at the open display. "Whore," he muttered.

Snape whirled, his patience shot to hell. But the Dark Lord held up a hand, took response upon himself. "It is not for you to cast aspersions, young Malfoy." Voldemort rose smoothly, snakelike. And his snake followed him, coiled near his feet. "You are the failure this night." He gestured. "Severus is the victor. And as we all know…to the victor go the spoils. And in this case, the spoils are your mother's various fine attributes."

Narcissa blushed now, too. Her eyes filled with tears. She wanted very much to weep – to weep for what Severus had done in her name, to weep for her son's resentment. But she held her tears at bay. She couldn't show such weakness before Bella or the Dark Lord. Besides, she knew her son, and she knew he spoke out of anger and fear. She looked at his face, at the strain there.

He hated  _himself_ , she knew – for his weakness. How could she tell him it was  _strength_  that prevented him being a killer? Severus' hand trembled against her hairline. He, too, was affected by this night. She wondered if either of her men could be healed…

"Severus." The Dark Lord was speaking again. "You have served me most nobly this night. Admirably." Bella growled. "There is much to be discussed. But later. You are exhausted. As am I. We rest. Hidden here and safe. Tomorrow, I summon our number. Tonight…" He brushed a clammy claw over Narcissa's cheek. "Enjoy your rewards. Nagini?" He left the odd party, snake sidewinding behind him.

Severus could feel Narcissa's shoulder tense beneath his hand. He knew she didn't care for being considered a possession – a prize. He squeezed that shoulder gently, reminding her he didn't feel that way.

"How quaint." It was Bella who spoke. Snape rolled his eyes, felt his headache increase tenfold. "Couldn't pay  _me_ to have the half-blood prick –"

"Silence, sister!" Narcissa's voice was clear, strong and inarguably in charge. "Go to your master, Bella. Get out of my sight and take your opinions with you!" She stood, pointing with a furious, shaking finger. In that moment, a line drew between the sisters, solid and unyielding. Bella's jaw clenched, but she left, glaring at Narcissa with dangerous eyes. On her way out of the drawing room archway, she lingered, drew an almost seductive hand over Draco's shoulder.

"Come and find me, nephew." She hissed into his ear. "We shall…talk." Draco spared her a glance, then she was gone.

A terrible, heavy silence warmed the room. Eyes were avoided, and bodies shifted uncomfortably. Finally: "Draco. Son. Please." The tears in the mother's voice were audible.

"Please what, mother?" His cold steel eyes flashed to hers.

"Please understand," she answered softly. "I never meant – "

"Never meant to cuckold my father? Never meant to sell my glory to…to a half-blood school teacher? To debase yourself by – "

"Enough!" Severus' sonorous voice brooked no nonsense. "If you knew half what your mother risked –"

"Fuck you, Snape!" Draco stepped toward the imposing potions master, bordering on imposing himself. Anger made him brash, swelled his shoulders. "You're  _not_  my father – nor my master in  _any_  way. You've no authority over me, despite what my mother may wish. And for someone who was sworn to protect me, you've made my life a greater hell than it was before." Then, he cast one last shrivelling scowl at his mother and stalked from the room.

In the new silence, Narcissa fell back to the chaise. She dropped her face into her hands. Before Severus, she could sob. And she did. She could hide nothing from this man. But he pulled her hands from her face. "Stop," he said. "No tears. The boy's alive. His soul is…untarnished."

She looked up at him, moonlight showing the tracks of her weeping. "And you, Severus? Your soul? Have I damned you?"

He shook his head, so beyond tired. His very essence was tired, it seemed. "No, Narcissa. It wasn't you who damned me." His thumb stroked a streak of wet across her cheek. "In fact, you may be the only thing that can save me…"

She kissed his hands. "You'll stay here? Hidden here?"

He nodded. "It's what the Dark Lord wishes."

Her eyes were almost bashful when they looked down from his. "Then…I can hold you tonight?"

Severus nearly swayed on his feet. That sounded…divine. "I – I think I would like that."

They mounted the stairs together, and she took him not to her marriage chamber but to the room she considered her own, her solace. There, she undressed him tenderly, as if every touch was an apology or a recognition; an apology for his loss, a recognition of his bravery. After she settled him in the cool sheets, she shed her own frock far faster. She could hardly wait to hear his heart beating at her ear, to feel his solidness, his warmth pressing against her. He was the savior of her son, the man who kept his promises, who brought her back to being, proof of life, proof of…love?

In the considerate dark, she held his head to her chest and panicked quietly.  _Do I love this man? Oh, gods… It wasn't supposed to happen…_

He was sobbing, broken and guilty and lost, into her bosom. He clutched her to him as if she were fleeting, a dryad. "I had to," he gasped. "I had to. I promised him…I promised him…"

She didn't comprehend fully, but some realization began to dawn. That she wasn't the only person with a claim on this man's soul. Her heart broke for him and she knew with absolute terrifying certainty:  _I love him._

He couldn't have said when he finally fell asleep, only that at some point exhaustion overwhelmed him. When he woke in the morning, he felt drained of energy, sad, and yet he was happy too. In his arms, Narcissa gave him a tentative smile as worry swam in her eyes. "You're awake," she said softly.

In response he nodded, lifted a heavy hand to toy with her hair. "As are you."

"I have been for a while now." She rested a light hand on his neck, where her fingers began pressing gently against tense muscles.

"Not because of me, I hope." He closed his eyes again, letting her do her work.

"I was worried about you. Last night…" She didn't have to finish. They both knew that the night had been tough – she, realizing what had been done for her and that she loved this man and him, serving two different people as he murdered one of the few men he had ever been able to trust.

"Last night will be discussed later. You heard the Dark Lord. He will summon everyone…likely after he meets with me alone."

"You won't be telling everyone what you were saying when we were lying down. What did you mean, when you said you promised him?"

There was a stubborn silence.

She took her hands from his neck, placed them instead on jaws darkened with stubble. "Severus…"

He sighed, opened his eyes. The secret was going to be too much to keep to himself, and he knew that the only person he could trust with it was the woman with him. "Dumbledore asked me to protect the students, to…keep them from making decisions they would regret. I promised him I would do my best." The words were not exactly the truth, but he dared not tell her that lest the Dark Lord decide to browse through her mind.

She leaned forward to kiss him gently, wondering just how much damage had really been done to the man and hoping that she could, somehow, heal him. "Draco will thank you, when he can understand what you've done for him."

"I won't hold my breath."

"He was just angry last night. He didn't mean what he said, not really." She placed a hand on his hip, the other still on his cheek. "He is angry-"

Severus shushed her. "He will remain so for quite a time." He kissed her again, hand flitting up to cup her breasts.

"I wish I could change it, make him see…"

"His anger is directed more toward me than you. He cannot accept my role changing, and has been brooding the entire term. Us, coupled with his 'failure' last night, is too much for him to deal with." He nuzzled her neck as he slipped a hand between her legs and probed gently. She was ready for him already, and he was hardly able to stand just laying with her. It had been almost a year since they were together last…

She gave a soft cry of surprise as she felt his fingers enter her and gave a soft mew when he withdrew them. In the months they had been separated, she had been anticipating their reunion – and while she was glad to see that Severus was eager for her, she had wanted things to be on her terms.

"Don't make me wait, witch, not after so long." His voice was husky in her ear, thoughts of their troubles with the war cast aside. She gave a nod and rolled onto her back. Severus loomed above her, kissed her hard, and she thought he was going to be swift in his attack. But instead of thrusting swiftly into her, he kept their lips together and softened his mouth on hers as he slid in slowly.

Their languid pace didn't last as long as they had perhaps hoped, both driving the other closer and closer to the edge with every rock of their hips, but for the first time in months they both felt like they had come home. Narcissa gave a gasp as shockwaves began to crash through her and dug her nails into her lover's back as she seized around him, then gasped again when he bit at her neck only seconds later, spilling himself into her.

Magic surged, the witch and the wizard's, wove itself together with a powerful force. Neither had felt it so strongly before, and only Narcissa truly understood what it meant.  _It's so strong now_ , she thought, pushing sweaty hair away from his forehead.  _The magic between us. Does he feel it, too? How could he not?_  Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.  _It's dangerous. Dangerous to be in love now. If the Dark Lord caught even a whiff of emotion between us…_

"Narcissa." He spoke her name as if he was repeating it.

"What?"

His eyes were concerned. "Are you alright?"

When she blinked, she felt the moisture escape her eyes, roll down her temples. "Of course," she lied. She nudged at him, needing space – needing to escape the magnetism of him. But he held her fast, strong arms bracing at the sides of her shoulders. For the goddess' sake, he was still inside her…

"Hardly," he growled. "Talk."

She sniffed in frustration. "There's nothing to talk about. Let me go, please."

"Never." His arms stiffened further, tightened their constraint. "This is hardly the time for secrets. At least not between us."

 _Fine_ , she thought. But she looked away as she spoke, couldn't tolerate the bare truth he requested. "Do you feel it?" She asked.

"Feel what?"

The question stung, implied he noticed nothing. Thus her reply. "Nothing. I suppose it's nothing."

"Feel what?" He repeated more firmly.

She closed her eyes.  _Bastard._  "The magic. Between us. When we…when we make love." She called their exchange 'making love' on purpose. It was her way of acknowledging the weathering emotion without admitting the possibility of actually being 'in' the emotion. She hoped he understood.

But his silence and slow breaths, the tensing of his body told her he did not. It told her she had said too much, that she had frightened him. "Shite," she muttered tightly. She struggled against his hold. "I told you not to mind, Severus. Let me go!"

She managed to push him out of her – away from her and rolled to the bed's edge. More hot tears lumped her throat, but she'd be damned before he saw them. Her toes touched the Persian rug. She would make for the lavatory.

But his hand around her arm stopped her. She gasped at the force of his sudden grip. And when she turned to chastise him, the dark vulnerability in his gaze stopped her short. He didn't relax his hold as whatever she was about to say froze in her mouth, nor did he speak for a few long seconds. Instead, he just looked at her. She was frozen, her eyes reflecting the turmoil going on within his own, mouth open slightly. Beautiful, still.

Severus was the one to break the silence, shattering the ice that had just crystalized between them. "You didn't even give me a chance to reply." His words weren't threatening, but his tone displayed hurt and anger, and she flinched from both.

"I assumed, based on your reaction-" She got quiet suddenly, shrinking back as the man rose from the bed. He was taller than she was, taller and stronger, and much more dangerous, although he wasn't likely to cause her any physical harm. No…Narcissa knew that if Severus Snape felt like hurting her, he would do it through thoughts or feelings induced by manner or words.

And still, even as he stood, he maintained his grip on her arm. "You assume too much, Narcissa." His voice was low, starting as a dangerous murmur and softly increasing to its normal volume, albeit with more of an edge to it than was usually displayed in her presence. "To think that I believed you to be different…"

The comment stung her, he could see; she winced visibly. "But I am!"

"Are you?" He slid his grip down to her wrists. "I thought for the past two years that you were, that you knew me like no other does, but I appear to have been mistaken."

"No, you aren't! You aren't wrong!" Was that almost a sob?

"Then explain to me, Narcissa, why you think I have no feelings. Explain to me how you have come to that conclusion."

He watched as she gave up her struggle to keep her tears at bay, followed the tracks of salty liquid as it made paths down her cheeks. It was all he could do to keep his hands from her face and his lips from her skin. It was his fault she was crying, and he wanted to soothe her, but it was also her fault that he was angry…and her fault that she was dealing with this.

"You…you never let anyone see how things affect you, or let anyone help you. You never speak with anyone. You're almost always alone…"

A fresh wave of hurt crashed down. "So now you do not consider yourself a person?" He snorted. "Have you forgotten how just last night I sought solace in you, cried against you? Have you forgotten how I have shared things with you, things that should be brought to no ears except the Dark Lord's? Or that every chance I get, if I can, I come to you?"

She flushed, cried more. "No! No…of course not!"

At that, he pulled her tight against his chest and forced her to look up at him. "When we make love…" He paused. The term felt so right on his lips when he was with her, because he could no longer accept that they were just having sex. What they had was more than that. It was more than he had had with any other soul – because despite how much he had loved Lily, she had not been to him or for him what Narcissa was and would continue to be. And it was at that moment, with that realization, that he let himself acknowledge that what he felt for her was not the concern he felt for others. His coworkers at the school, the wizarding world in general, the students…for them, he always hoped they were safe. Should things go awry, he felt a stab of disappointment, of failure. But Narcissa – the thought of her in danger made him panic. He knew, for a certainty, that he loved this woman. "When we make love, I feel as though we could conquer the world."

The words took her by surprise, pleasant as they were, though she didn't have to think of her reaction. She stood on her toes to raise her height so she could kiss him, watched as he closed his eyes and then she mirrored the action. They stood like that for a while, both tasting the salt from her tears, silent.

Then, gently, he pulled back from her. Narcissa started to protest but his finger against her lip stopped her. The moment he removed it she felt him elsewhere, both before her and behind her, and her eyes flew open. He was on his knees before her, hands ghosting along her backside as his tongue explored her between her thighs. He remembered the patterns he had used before, put them into play again, and within seconds she was clutching the back of his head, his shoulders.

"Severus," she panted, but he paid her no mind, just kept up his movements. And suddenly her toes were curling into the soft rug beneath them and she was bending over, pressing as close to him as she could get in a futile attempt to draw out the explosion. She was trembling, when he stood. With ease he picked her up and took her over to her bed, where he eased her down onto it. "No," she said a couple seconds later when he started to join her.

Curious, he obeyed her request, stayed standing and then watched as she got back up and came to him, dropped to her knees this time. Reminiscent of the day she had come to the school over Yule holidays, she took him in her mouth and began her devil's work. She needed no guidance at all, seeming to know the exact measurements of what would pleasure him best, and in no time at all had him straining to last longer. He bucked against her as her tongue danced, sucked in a breath. "Can we not do things properly?" His voice was raspy.

She pulled back for a second, looking up at him with eyes that he felt he could drown in. "Later, perhaps."

He growled. "Later I won't have anything to give…"

She smirked. "You should have thought of that earlier, then." And then she was back at it, alternating sucking and swirling until she could feel him tensing up further.

He gave another growl, bent over and pulled her up, then laid her across the bed. She didn't have time to react before he was above her, nipping at her collarbone as he thrust within her, pace fast and hard. Only a few seconds passed before he was tensed up, his breath coming harshly. Between them, Narcissa could feel his balls pulse in time with his heart. She slipped a hand between their bodies to cup him, massaging gently until his body relaxed, and then she stroked his face as she kissed him.

Slowly and reluctantly, he rolled off of her and turned onto his side. With a look at him, she followed his lead, moving so that her back was to him. He wasted no time in pulling her to him, an arm settling over her to rest possessively around her waist. Their eyes drifted shut in the peaceful silence, both content just to lay with the other.

The calm didn't last long.

"Cissy! Where's Snape?" Bellatrix's voice penetrated the air, drifting to them from the direction of the Malfoy's marriage chamber.

Severus felt Narcissa stiffen in his arms but neither said anything, nor got up from the bed. They didn't really expect an intrusion… After all, the dark sister rarely bothered to even poke her head through the doorways around the manor. If she could get anyone in trouble with the master, and make herself look better, she would take the opportunity. It was quiet for a full minute, so they relaxed again, thinking they would be left alone.

"I still can't believe you've resorted to such levels, Cissy. None of us ever dreamed we'd see the day that one of such noble lines would let a half-blood stick his cock in her." Bellatrix leaned against the vanity. "Of course… I came too late to see the action, but…" She laughed, eyes lighting on her sister's thighs, where the evidence of a coupling hadn't been wiped away.

Narcissa flushed, angry, and opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by her sister.

"I suppose I mustn't blame you entirely… We all have desires." Bella moved closer to the bed, hips swaying in a manner that most men would probably find attractive. Severus just found it repulsive. "I trust you are taking precautions? It wouldn't look good if you were to suddenly become with child while your husband is in Azkaban. And you have to think of Draco… He'd be devastated."

"We aren't children to be scolded, sister."

"No?" Bella pouted her bottom lip and tilted her head in that way she had of trying to look innocent. She looked again to Narcissa's thighs. "Even your son, a child, knows better than to let this happen."

"What matter is it to you, Bella?" Severus' eyes were flashing slightly as he looked at her. "There are other methods besides the muggle way-"

She cackled, sidled closer. "Ah, but those leave a trace and I don't feel it."

Narcissa had had enough. "Stop! It is our business and our business alone!"

That only encouraged Bellatrix. "Aha! So you're trying! Wait until the Dark Lord hears. He will be most displeased…"

Narcissa was quick as a jackrabbit. She leapt from the bed, one arm reaching for her discarded frock and the other drawing her wand from the nightstand. "Put your wand where your mouth is, Bella," she spat.

Bella was quick, too – frighteningly so. Her walnut talon was leveled at her sister as if appearing from nowhere. "Exuro fervente!" She snapped. Her dark eyes widened, burned with the pleasure of the duel.

Narcissa's Protego nearly overrode Bella's hex – but only nearly. The sting caught her elbow and she hissed. Severus stepped swiftly betwixt the two empassioned witches. His wand was on the opposite nightstand, and he was well aware that aside from being unarmed, he was quite naked. "Stand down, Bellatrix!" He snapped in his most authoritative tone. "Our master would be most disappointed to know that –"

"That his favored assassin was dangerously distracted by the wife of a fellow Death Eater? Yes, I'm certain he would be. Rapio spiritus!"

But Severus was quicker than both witches. He dodged Bella's spell with ease, rolling across the bed to his wand. When he leapt to his feet, his shirt hung open on his frame, a sheet was clutched to his hips and his ebony wand was clutched in his hand. "Reducto!"

Bella was caught unawares, blown into the hallway. She growled in rage. Narcissa looked at Severus as if to say 'Now you've done it.' He just shrugged and swept up his trousers. Narcissa took the second to reach for her own frock.

"What the fuck is going on?" The incredulous voice belonged to Draco Malfoy. The young wizard appeared in the open door, looking first to his staggering aunt, then the mostly nude couple in the bedroom. "Gods, mother! What are you doing?"

Bella's arm slipped round Draco's shoulder. Barely winded, she hissed in his ear. "Your sick slag of a mother is quite caught in the act, dragon." She kissed the boy's earlobe. "With your filthy half-blood school teacher, no less." Draco shook with rage.

"Son." Narcissa stepped forward, pulling her dress up over her hips. "Listen to me…"

"No." With surprising determination, Draco drew his own wand. "Dress yourself for Merlin's sake."

The hurt on the mother's face was immediate and devastating. She froze beneath the hateful glare and Severus felt himself redden in fury. "How dare you draw your wand on your mother, insolent boy."

The wand flipped to Snape. Bella watched with blatant delight. "How dare you fuck her, you muddy blooded piece of rubbish! Relashio!"

Severus shielded himself with a barely hissed spell. "Draco!" Narcissa screamed, one arm sleeved in her light blue dress. "How dare you?"

"How dare  _you_ , mother?" The Malfoy heir's face contorted in anger. He raised his wand at her. Bella cackled insanely. But Draco only opened his mouth when…

"Langlock." Snape was as brisk in the casting as he was in securing his trousers. Draco's hand slapped over his stopped mouth. He moaned in impotent fury.

"Fuck," Bella spat. She flicked her wand at her sister as one would a fly. "Plagas, bitch," she muttered. A resounding invisible slap sent Narcissa staggering to the floor. The dark witch advanced smoothly on Snape. "Penexcorios." The spell was delivered with a dreadful sneer.

Severus matched the sneer and with a whip of his wand, seemed to simply absorb the energy of the spell. His eyes darkened. "Sectumsempra," he breathed.

If it was unlike Bellatrix Lestrange to be unprepared for a spell in a duel, it was just as unlike Severus Snape to lose control of that spell. But he did.

Bella's shield wasn't enough. The invisible blades of Severus' own spell penetrated her protego, and though they were lessened, they were still sharp as his tongue. Bella hissed and screamed as she clutched at her sliced chest, then slid a bloody hand to her also cut neck. "You son of a muggle…" She raised her wand with furious, trembling fingers.

"Bella! ENOUGH!" This time, Narcissa's spell was true. She shrugged her other arm into its sleeve as she cast. "Reducto!" She blasted her sister back into the hallway, leaving a splatter of blood in the door's frame.

Draco knelt over Bella as she slid down the opposite wall. Lip righteously curled, he stared over a shoulder at his mother. Narcissa heaved in the door. "Draco," she whispered. "Please…"

But still under the affect of Snape's spell, the boy had nothing to say. Instead he helped Bella to her feet, turning them both away from the beleaguered couple in the bedroom door. "Draco!" This time, his name left Narcissa's lips on a sob.

Severus pulled her to his chest and slammed shut the door. This time, he warded it soundly.


	9. Chapter 9

Summer had not, by any means, been his favorite season for many years. There had been a time, years and years ago, where the opposite had been true. Days when his mother lurked in their dim house, recluse that she was, when his father lay in a drunken stupor after hitting him…days when he could escape the atrocities of Spinner's End by crossing the river and meeting up with a little red-haired girl. Those days he had looked forward to the breaks from school.

Things were different now. The three who had made the time enjoyable were dead; emotion had claimed the first, a curse cast by his own wand took the second, and a choice he made claimed the third. And so, from the time he was fifteen until now, Severus hadn't enjoyed his breaks from the work Hogwarts demanded.

And to think that he owed it all to a murder.

He was settled in a small alcove he had discovered in the manor, not far down the hall from the library, pondering how strange death was, when he was disturbed. The latch on the door opened softly; even so, he could still hear it, and he turned slightly in his seat. He expected to see Narcissa, and was – unpleasantly – surprised to see her son instead.

Draco's expression was one of extreme distaste, lip lifted in a sneer he usually reserved for the Golden Trio. "Taken to hiding in closets now?"

Severus quirked an eyebrow, rose to his feet. "I assure you, Draco, if I were trying to hide I would not be found." He took a step toward the teenager.

"That's funny, seeing as the Ministry knows you're here."

The older man rolled his eyes. Such petty games. "And can do little about it." He paused. "Did you need something or did you simply wish to waste your breath?"

Draco clenched and unclenched his fists, seething. It didn't take much from his prior professor to get him lathered up. "The Dark Lord wishes to speak to you in Father's study. He said to bring Mother with you."

Severus frowned slightly, wondering what the meeting was about. Narcissa's presence was not often requested at these meetings. "Very well." When Draco failed to move, he brushed past him and smirked at the grunt he heard after bumping into a shoulder.

He found Narcissa in her (or their) chambers, on the bed. Her back was to him and judging by the slow rise and fall of her side, she was asleep. Such a lovely image he hated to ruin it…but if he failed to do so, there would be a price to pay. Sighing softly he walked to her, knelt at the side of the bed, took one of her hands in his.

She stirred, opened her eyes slightly. "Severus." Her voice was little more than a whisper, breathless with sleep. "What is it?"

He moved to brush strands of her hair behind her ear and let his fingers linger on the skin of her jaw. "Our audience has been requested. Immediately."

A few minutes later they granted said request, Narcissa entering first and Severus coming second, closing the door to the study behind him. Before he looked to the Dark Lord, who was seated in the large chair with his snake in his lap, his eyes lit on the desk and images of Narcissa laying beneath him there flashed through his mind.

Voldemort gave a knowing smile. "Severus, Narcissa. I trust you have been having an…enjoyable summer?"

Severus gave a slight nod. "Indeed, my lord. Thank you." Beside him, Narcissa just gave a nod and kept her eyes slightly downcast.

"I have good news…and then more good news. Which would you prefer?" He stroked his pet's head as he spoke.

The Death Eater didn't have to think of his response. "Either will suit me fine, my lord."

"Very well." His amused expression disturbed Snape. "Lucius will be making his return here later this afternoon."

Next to him, Severus could feel Narcissa tremble as she reached for his hand. Usually he wouldn't permit a display of the nature, but he knew this was a comfort she needed. If he had been with anyone besides the powerful wizard before him, he himself would be reacting with a rage that only she could tamper… But as it were, he only blinked and inclined his head again. "I am glad to hear it."

Voldemort laughed. "You need not lie, Severus." He looked at the couple's joined hands, and this time addressed Narcissa. "Look at me, witch." She was hesitant as she obeyed, requiring a squeeze of Severus' hand as a prompt, but obey she did. "You are not pleased either…and understandably so. Lucius is hardly happy with either of you. But serving me has rewards, and Lord Voldemort rewards those who are faithful to him. Until September first you remain Severus' spoils."

Severus could feel her tense against him and squeezed her hand again, wishing the gesture could communicate his feelings to her. In here, in the company of another, he could hardly tell her that she was much more than 'spoils' to him. She was his saving grace, a new reason for continuing. Though he couldn't bring himself to vocalize the words yet, she was the woman he loved. And so all he could do was hope that she could feel his reassurance through the few inches of skin that was touching her.

"My husband-"

"Will not bother you. Lucius may be free from Azkaban but his punishment is not over." He was clearly through speaking on that matter, for he turned his attention to Severus again. "And my other news, Severus, I think you will find just as pleasant, if not more so. When the new term of school starts, you shall be returning to Hogwarts…" There was a dramatic pause. "As headmaster."

The surprise on Severus' face was almost comical. "Of course, master." He bowed.

"And as for your toy, here." Voldemort gestured to Narcissa. "I feel a…demonstration may be in order upon her loving husband's return."

Snape froze, eyes rising before the rest of his body. "Demonstration, my lord?"

"Yes, Severus." He flicked his bony wand at Narcissa and she yipped from a light sting. "Upon their successful war campaigns, Roman conquerors would display their pillage before their welcoming countrymen. I should like you to do the same when Lucius is with us again – and, of course, your  _other_  countrymen."

Narcissa tensed beside her lover, eyes widening in mortification.  _He can't mean…_

"I'm afraid I don't understand, my lord…" Severus hedged dangerously.

Voldemort rose abruptly, spilling a hissing Nagini to the floor. "I cannot be clearer, can I?" His angry voice rose. "Or I suppose I can!" His clawlike hands took hold of Narcissa's forearms, pulled her forward, then whirled her to face Severus. "I want you to fuck your toy for us all to see, Headmaster – especially her husband. Do you understand  _that_? Am I perfectly  _clear_?"

"No! Please!" Narcissa broke, sobbed, tried to turn to face the Dark Lord.

"Correct, Malfoy slattern!" Voldemort shoved her forward. She tripped against Severus, and he scrambled to catch her, but she fell at his feet instead. "There shall be  _no pleas_!" He whisked away as if he'd sullied his hands on her enough. "You'll display your only talent before your peers and be silent. Understood?"

Severus' jaw clenched. He could  _not_  defy this master – not yet. Narcissa wept at his feet and soon Voldemort rounded on her again, seething. "I asked if you understood me, you useless whore! Answer!" His claw wrenched her head back by the hair.

"Yes!" She cried out, gasping.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, master!"

He cast her head to Severus' knees, didn't notice how the dark man trembled with rage. "Collar your bitch, Severus. Or I shall assign her a new trainer." He backed away, watched Snape pull Narcissa to her feet. "Now. Get out."

And he turned away as if the sight of them disgusted him.

In the hall, Narcissa leaned against the wall. She wretched pitifully, and when Severus reached to comfort her, she swatted his hand away. She finally managed to vomit, and stared at the pool of sick while Snape brought his anger under control with deep, measured breaths.

"He doesn't mean it," she whispered.

Severus' voice was monotonous. "Yes, he does." He rubbed a long hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Narcissa."

She wept openly, fists pounding the wall.

At the darkest end of the corridor, hidden in the shadows, a pair of eyes watched them intently as they dealt with the news they had been given.

Severus rested a hand on Narcissa's shoulder, rubbed gently until she stopped crying and was just sniffling. She wiped her cheeks with wet hands, doing little to help clear away the tears. "Surely there is something you can do, to change his mind."

He shook his head. "Narcissa, you know there is not." Once again, he pulled her to her feet. "The most I can do is promise to make things quick." When she nodded, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. In his hiding spot, Draco barely suppressed his growl.

That night there was an air of anticipation in the kitchen. It was a rare thing for everyone to be called to a meeting in the middle of the week, and the majority of the crowd was eager for dinner to be over. For two people, it couldn't last long enough. They ate as slowly as possible, tried pushing dishes on the others to stall for time, but the man seated at the head of the table was able to see through their antics and called a halt to them when he grew weary of the wait. "My brothers…sisters…we have been waiting for a time for fresh entertainment, have we not?" He paused as there were murmurs of agreement throughout. "Tonight, we get it. Severus and Narcissa have graciously agreed to provide."

Eyes flashed toward the couple. Lucius was the only one who kept his gaze down, on his plate.

"Would you prefer here or another room, my friends?"

Severus cleared his throat. "Another, my lord. With a moment alone, if you would allow it."

He nodded. "As you wish. Join us in five minutes." He stood and exited, the group following.

Narcissa launched herself at Severus the instant the last man passed through the doorway, buried her face in his neck. She trembled with dread at what was going to happen but kept her tears at bay as she breathed in his scent. "What will this do to us?" Even her voice shook.

He moved his fingers against her back, held her to him, his nose pressed to her head so that with every breath he inhaled he smelled her shampoo. "Nothing. This is naught but a show." He forced her to look up at him and gave her a gentle, almost tentative kiss. The touch was so light he could have missed; she gave a soft sound of discontent and rose on her tiptoes to connect again.

Suddenly she seemed emboldened, brushed her hand across the front of his trousers not once, not twice, not three times, but four. The result pressed against her stomach, ready for action. "Severus?"

"Mm?" The sound was muffled against the side of her neck.

"Do what you have to do." He nodded, took her by the hand, and led her to a room hidden deep within the manor that he hadn't seen until a few moments prior to dinner.

When they entered they were surprised to see a large bed in the center of the room; that had not been there earlier. Narcissa flushed, knowing that everyone knew what was to happen now. Voldemort gestured for them to occupy the bed. As they sat down on it, an explanation of sorts began.

"As you are all undoubtedly aware, the name of Malfoy is not one that brings much pleasure to us these past years. First the father fails, then the son. All could have been lost, but was not. Severus is a man who serves well, and he carried out the task that his pupil was assigned. It is thanks to him that Albus Dumbledore is now entombed by marble while I stand here with you." He lifted a glass of wine as a toast, an action the mass copied. "And Severus is a man who deserves rewards. Tonight he will show you the sort of reward you can expect by serving Lord Voldemort well. Severus."

Eyes shifted from the snakelike man to the one clothed similarly to a priest, and he knew that it was time he began. With a knot in his throat he turned to Narcissa, eyes meeting hers for a fleeting second before falling to her dress. He had decided over the meal that he wouldn't fully remove the garment or all of his, but rather just enough to get the job done – either way, he was going to have to lift the skirt of the dress to reach her wand.

And retrieving the ebony was the first thing he did, slipping his hand under soft material and along smooth skin. He went further than was necessary, calloused fingers lighting on…nothing  _but_ skin. She had evidently not wanted to be humiliated more than she had to be, for which he could hardly blame her. Moving his hand in a circle, he gently slipped his index finger across her to assess how bad things were going to be. There was a whimper as she shifted her weight. She wasn't as wet as usual, but wet enough…and that was going to have to work.

Moving back again, he pulled her wand from its holster and set it down on a small nightstand that had just appeared. Scowling he fiddled with his trousers, getting them undone finally, and then pushed her down onto the bed. The skirt of her dress he bunched up in his hands, pushed until it was past her hips. At the sight of the skin revealed there were a couple catcalls and whistles.

He bent over her to kiss her, but she whipped her head away. "Narcissa," he growled a soft warning. Beneath him she writhed, leaving him unable to do anything. He put his mouth closer to her ear. "Narcissa. Stop or I'll make you." The words had no effect. Pulling his wand from within his right sleeve, he used a nonverbal incantation that he had perfected just the other day and bound her arms to the posts of the bed.

She glared up at him, and then looked away as he settled his weight over her again. She found Draco at the exact moment that Severus thrust into her and couldn't bite back the scream that came forth. While her lover was being as gentle as he could be (and was by no means as rough as her husband was), he couldn't treat her as he did when they were alone, and there was quite a bit of discomfort. She stayed still as the man above her moved and Draco looked away after meeting her gaze, his cheeks coloring. At the loss of contact, she gave a choked sob.

Tears began coursing down her cheeks and she screamed again as Severus angled himself differently. The sound chilled him because he knew it was his fault. He was hurting her…humiliating her… and the knowledge was breaking his heart. He looked away from her for a second, finding Lucius immediately. The blonde was standing next to Bellatrix, a numb expression on his face, and the dark man felt a familiar hatred coiling in his chest. He despised his associate for so many reasons, but right now the chief ones were for getting Narcissa first and for putting her in their current situation.

Her next scream was the worst and the loudest, and it was all he could do to keep from stopping to comfort her. Instead, he did the only thing he could think of that would please the master. He picked up his wand and with a flick of his wrist, summoned a cloth. He shoved the gag in her mouth as carelessly as he dared, then – with a mental grimace and cringe – he put a hand to her throat and pressed down. His voice was a growl, thick and angry. "Shut it, witch."

Their eyes met. Her blue ones were pools of tears, full of frustration and pain, but absent of hate. That was different from what Severus had seen browsing through Lucius' mind on occasion. And Severus' own eyes, hard to read to others, were perfectly clear to Narcissa. She could see how doing this to her was killing him, how all he wanted to do was to take her to their room and make love to her properly. But they couldn't, or at least they couldn't yet. All they could hope for was that it would end soon.

The hope was granted within a few more seconds. Severus bit his cheek and grunted as he filled her womb. As he rode out his orgasm, the only one with her that he hated, he wondered how many witches (or muggles, for that matter) had gotten pregnant as a result of this sort of display. He had seen other public couplings that the Dark Lord had ordered; enough of them that he knew the witch was not allowed to protect herself in any way.

"Very nice, Severus. The bitch requires a bit more work before she's completely trained, but it is safe to say you've capable hands." Voldemort sneered slightly. "Would anyone else like a turn while Mrs. Malfoy is subdued?"

Severus rolled off of her, pulling down her dress and pulling up his trousers again in one swift movement. "No." A gasp went around the room as he undid the bonds on her. "It is no secret that I have seldom indulged. If it pleases my lord, I would keep Narcissa solely for my own enjoyment." He sank to a kneeling position.

Amusement at the action rolled over Voldemort's face and he stepped to the side of the bed to look at the witch. He raised a hand to touch her neck where it was sore from Snape's hold, trailed a brittle looking nail from there to her cheek. "You have done all that I have asked of you…and more. Keep her in her kennel, or on a very short leash." Then he was turning away from her, sweeping through the doorway, and en mass the Death Eaters followed.

Two hesitated, their eyes meeting across the feet separating them, and with a silent agreement one left and the other stayed. Severus paused in the doorway to look back at Narcissa. She was curled into a ball, eyes shut to the world, shaking. Oh how he wished he could stay here to comfort her…but he couldn't. The meeting was not over yet, and as the Dark Lord's most trusted he was expected to attend whereas Draco would hardly be missed. The boy might be mad as Hades at both of them, but he loved his mother. Confident she would be okay, he left the duo alone.

Draco didn't know what to do to help, so for nearly half an hour he was silent, just resting his hand on Narcissa's as she cried. Eventually, when she stopped and sat up, he cleared his throat. She jumped slightly with surprise at seeing him instead of Severus, but relieved nonetheless. "Mother." He wanted to wince at how stiff and awkward the title sounded on his lips, absent of the blatant disgust and contempt of late.

"Draco! Draco…" She peered at him closely, as if she had forgotten what he looked like. And in a way, she had. The young man sitting with her was a far different one than he had been at the beginning of his sixth year of school. "I'm so sorry…"

He gave her a strange expression, shook his head. "No, Mother. I'm the one who's sorry. Sorry you don't know how to stop doing what you know is wrong and have to have this as a punishment. The Dark Lord will make you do it again, probably, if you make him angry."

His mother frowned, wiped at her face. "It was punishment for your father, not for myself or Severus. We did nothing wrong."

Draco's eyes began to harden to steel. "Nothing wrong? You don't consider debasing yourself by fucking a damned half-blood to be wrong? Honestly, woman, you call yourself my mother?" His lip curled. "We don't even share the same values. Not anymore."

Narcissa's own eyes flashed. "Until this year you had no problem with Severus-"

"That's because he wasn't banging my mother until this year!"

For a brief moment she almost said that throughout his fifth year there had been more than just the one occasion, but she bit her tongue. It wouldn't do to completely piss him off. "Draco, please. You have to understand…"

"Understand what? I think I understand the situation perfectly well."

Her anger surged. "Obviously you don't! Because if you did, you would have no problem with myself or Severus! If you did, you would hate your father!"

He gave a sneer. "Oh, I'm sure the tale of the sordid affair is very dreadful and sob worthy."

She slapped him harshly, chest heaving. "Your father is not a noble man, Draco. He has changed since we wed… I have been beaten and raped by his own hands, numerous times." She watched his face at the words, caught how he suddenly seemed less angry. "Oh, we were happy once. You're the proof of that. But after you were born, things changed…" She looked to the floor.

"You didn't get any better treatment just now." His tone was still barbed but his eyes were softer.

"A show, because it is what is expected. Severus has never behaved so."

Draco touched her hand again. "He is the only…?"

She looked back up. "I look for a certain number of qualities in people, son… they are a standard. Only Severus has met them."  _And exceeded them_. She dared not add the last part.

"You care for him," Draco murmured softly.

Narcissa's mouth fussed, attempting to formulate a reply worthy of his statement. Finally, she sighed and surrendered to the inevitability of admission, to the safety of being alone with her son and in his relatively good graces. "I love him," she whispered.

But Draco heard her quite clearly – as if she'd shouted.

And so did the black-clad wizard just outside the door.

It brought him up short. Severus froze at the words, the confession from her quiet pretty mouth. He suddenly went a little faint, leaned against the wall to compose himself.  _She loves me._  His mind couldn't move past that thought at the moment.

A feeling he hadn't felt since he was a teenaged boy drifted into his belly – hot, bubbling nervousness. And awareness. Painful self-awareness. He checked the foyer. He seemed to be the only one present. He took a deep breath, and entered the room.

Draco's head snapped up when Severus paused in the doorway. Narcissa was in the boy's arms, head resting against his shoulder. He was rubbing her back, and didn't stop when his eyes met Severus'.

Snape saw not the usual hostility there, but a grudging sort of acceptance, and frighteningly…a question. But the boy wouldn't know Severus had overheard their conversation. The question –  _do you love my mother?_ – was a natural one. Carefully, Snape schooled his expression to one of cool disregard. He couldn't let his own eyes answer, though inside, he already knew…

"Mother," Draco nudged her gently, and she looked up.

"Severus!" She collected herself, left her son's arms reluctantly. She stood on shaky legs. "Is all…well?"

He smirked. "I was called upon to dose your husband with a reviving draught. He was…rather upset by the evening's entertainment." Draco colored and looked away awkwardly. "Draco."

The young blonde looked back to Snape. "Yes, sir?"

Severus' chin raised a bit at the respectful if uncertain address. "I…am sorry you had to witness your mother's debasement. I would like you to understand that I –"

"I understand more than you know, Professor." With that, the young man stood. He kissed his mother's temple. "Good-night, mum." Severus received a very curt nod and a stiff: "Good-night, sir."

He inclined his own head. "Good-night, Mr. Malfoy."

Alone, their eyes locked at last. He had no words; nor, it seemed, did she. But she could only take so much of his tender and apologetic stare. Disregarding the slight discomfort between her legs, she flew to him, threw her arms round his neck.

His return embrace was quick, abandoned and hard. He chuffed into her hair, her neck. "I'm so very sorry, Cissa. Gods, my witch… I'm so sorry." His throat closed.

"Shhhh." She kissed his jaw, his mouth, silenced him. "Stop! You did what you had to. It wasn't you, Severus."

"You broke my bloody heart," he muttered mindlessly, pulling her hair to make her face him, to see the pain in his face. "I nearly died in your screams."

"If my son hadn't seen –"

"I know." He kissed her eyes, her cheeks. "If I'd known he was going to be present – "

"You what? Severus, there is nothing you could have done." She stroked his neck.

"I would do anything to make you better," he babbled. "I will do anything in my power to show you –"

"Severus."

"What?"

Her ice blue eyes were wet, fresh. "Take me to bed. Now. Make love to me as you do when we are alone."

He was stymied for a moment, staring into her face as if he couldn't believe she was real. But reality and fantasy suddenly met in his mind and snapped his reverie like a twig. He swept the witch off her feet and carried her – bridal style – up the curving staircase of Malfoy Manor and to the chambers they'd chosen to share.

Clothes were shed quickly, eyes rarely leaving each others' faces. Gingerly, reverently, Severus took the witch to the sheets. This time, he spoke to her with no encouragement. "I felt like a monster," he admitted. "I would never abuse this body, Narcissa." His fingers stroked her bruised folds gently, sweetly massaging them to wetness. "I worship you." He kissed her, suckled at her puckered nipples, relished her gasps and sighs of pleasure. "You're my goddess," he told her. "My muse, my reason."

"Your goddess?" She asked shortly.

"Yes. I promise." His mouth explored the delicate folds at her juncture, making her squirm. He kissed in apology and praise. "My Aphrodite." A kiss. "My Circe." A lick. "My Athena." A long suck.

She groaned, pressed at his shoulders. "You should worship your goddess properly," she breathed.

He rose to her face, brown eyes flecked red with passion. "I'm your servant," he murmured.

She pushed him to his back. "Severus." She mounted his thighs, kissed down his chest. "You're no acolyte." Her lips settled over the head of his cock and he hissed, bucked. "My Bacchus." She swirled her tongue, pleasured him with suction and her knowing, tender grasp. Swiftly, impatiently, she climbed over his hips."My great horned god." She sank onto his cock, tossed her head back with the feel of him, the sublime joining. "Oh, I need you!"

His hands held her hips as she rode him hard, slid up to cup and palm her glorious breasts. "Narcissa…" It was all he could manage. He heard her words –  _I need you_ – and wondered for the briefest second what it would be like to hear the others, the ones she dared not speak to him:  _I love you._

She panted, keened, and he looked down at their junction, the place where her soft white curls tangled in his dense black scratch. His cock glistened with her essence, and he knew his own was already leaking into her, threatening to explode. He held out for her pleasure.

Her thrusts grew harder. She rose and fell faster, lost less contact with him. "Severus," she nearly sobbed. "Please!"

He raised his knees and scrambled for her hands, clutched them in a desperate grip. "I'm here, Narcissa," he growled. "Let go. You know I'll catch you."

"Oh, Severus!" She was close. "I – I…"

"You what?" Now he  _wanted_ the words, yearned to hear them. "What, Cissa?"

"I…" But her orgasm caught up to her. Unraveling stopped her tongue, and she nearly broke his wrists in the intensity of it. This scream was one of profound pleasure, and he reveled in it, threw his head into the pillows and gritted his teeth at his own undoing.

She collapsed to his chest and he gathered her to him. Still joined, they rolled to their sides, breathing in their outward breaths. They calmed. Stroked each other's sweaty faces. Silence settled. So much was unspoken…but known.

The moon graced them with a shaft of silver light through the gauzy window dressings. Her tired eyes hid no secrets. And his?

His eyes struggled with secrets eager to spill.


	10. Chapter 10

There was a celebratory dinner in progress. The Malfoy table was set forth with a veritable cornucopia of delicious foods: prime rib swimming in au jous, several bright red lobsters, crispy baked pheasant, a golden pineapple ham…

The dinner had been arranged by none other than the Dark Lord himself. It honored Severus Snape – scheduled to leave Malfoy Manor the next day to assume his role as Headmaster of Hogwarts. It also couldn't have been a more awkward affair.

Voldemort had long since acquired Lucius' seat at head of the table. He kept Snape to his right, and a begrudging Bella to his left. Narcissa sat to Severus' right, and Draco to hers. Across from them and beside Bella was a completely defeated and apathetic Lucius who stared at nothing and frequently sniffled loudly.

Upon one particular sniffle, the Dark Lord took issue. "Bellatrix," he said gently. "Please. Prepare our Lucius a plate."

Bella scowled, scandalized – as if she would be caught dead doing a house elf's work. "Yes, master," she bit out. She snatched the empty fine china from under Lucius' runny nose, slapped an entire lobster upon it, and dropped it back before him. The plate reeled before settling, the sound echoing through the silent dining hall.

The Dark Lord looked pleased. "Severus," he continued. "What are your plans for the students of Hogwarts this term?"

Snape appeared casual. "A…stricter regiment, my lord. And hopefully some improvements to their training in the Dark Arts, thanks to your appointments of the Carrows. Bella, would you please pass the salt?"

The dark witch shot him a death glare and flicked her wand. The salt fired toward Severus' head, and nonchalantly, he caught it in a quick hand. "Thank you," he said, quirking an eyebrow at her. She growled.

"I think that sounds perfect," Voldemort continued, unfazed by the antics of the diners. Lucius sniffled. "they are to be our next generation, you know. Your contemporaries, Draco." He leveled a clawed finger at the youngest Malfoy. "Too bad you won't be joining them this term."

Draco held back a grimace. Bella cackled. "He'll be safer here with his mummy, my lord!"

"Shut up, you insane cow!" Draco rose from his seat.

Narcissa pulled him back briskly, ignoring Bella's singsong taunting. "Sit, please."

"But mum, she –"

"Ignore her," Cissa reminded. "And Bella, do behave before our honored lord and master." Her blue eyes cut to Voldemort, who bowed graciously in the Malfoy matron's direction.

" _Our_ lord and master?!" Bella scoffed. "You lying cunt!  _Your_  lord and master is the traitorous filthy half-blood school marm who paints your pillows every evening with his greasy hair! How dare you speak of –"

"Enough, Bellatrix," Voldemort interrupted her calmly. "I trust Severus most implicitly. I trust him to mold the minds of our rising number."

"He'll mold, alright," Bella muttered under her breath.

"What was that Bella?" Severus asked.

"Nothing…Snape." She put far too much force behind the 'p' sound in his name.

Lucius sniffled.

"We shall miss your strength here, Severus." The Dark Lord said. Bella, unnoticed by the speaker, made a gagging motion with her index finger in her throat. "But we rest assured you will do right by Hogwarts and its staff and students."

"And my sister will no doubt miss your no doubt giant raging half-blood cock in her far too-good-for-you pureblood cunt." Bella added on a hiss.

"Bella!" Narcissa whispered sharply.

But Severus merely smirked. "No doubt," he said smoothly, slowly. He looked sideways at Narcissa, who stared at her plate.

"Bellatrix, such commentary is unnecessary," Voldemort said. "I'm certain the lady of the manor can find something to occupy her time in Severus' absence." His gaze slanted to Cissa. "Isn't that right, Mistress Malfoy?"

"Yes, my lord."

" _Yes, my lord_ ," Bella mocked. Then, she jolted in her chair. "Ow!" Her wand was out in an instant. "You daft bitch!"

Narcissa made to rise.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort's sonorous voice rang out. "Such childish behavior from two such mature and impressive witches from the Noble and Ancient House of Black."

"She hexed me under the table!" Bella stamped her foot.

"I did not!" Narcissa insisted.

"She didn't!" Draco defended his mother. "That was me!"

"You little gobshite!" Bella aimed her wand at the boy.

"Touch him and I  _will_  hex you, sister," Narcissa said coldly.

Lucius sniffled.

"Sit. Both of you." The Dark Lord commanded. "Or I shall have Severus here collect the wand of every witch and wizard present save for myself."

Severus raised a challenging brow at Bella. The witches sat, but Bella scowled deeply. "I would slit my own throat before I'd let you near my wand, Snape."

The headmaster gave a hand wave that said 'neither here nor there.' "I hear hope springs eternal," he replied.

"Bellatrix?"

"Yes, master?" She looked fervently to Voldemort.

"Wipe Lucius' nose, please," he instructed. She bristled and the Dark Lord pointed. "And his lobster."

She gave a mini roar, but complied roughly. The table shook with her efforts. Done, she huffed back into her chair.

Voldemort cracked a lobster tail.

Narcissa rubbed a nervous hand over her neck.

Severus grinned a small victorious grin.

Draco gazed shamefully on his father.

Lucius sniffled.

There had been no activity between most of the household since Voldemort declared dinner over – and that had only been after every last lobster was disposed of. For the last three hours the man and the new headmaster had been in the study discussing different rules and procedures that would be put into effect for the upcoming term. Voldemort was assured that he had placed the education of the next generations in fine hands, but even so, he couldn't be too careful.

And so, by the time he was free again, Severus wanted a snack. He padded to the kitchen, opened a couple cabinets and stared at their contents with eyes that were less than enthusiastic. Nothing sounded appetizing. He sighed, reaching up to close the doors, and stiffened when arms locked about his waist. Long, pale, feminine arms whose hands were dipping dangerously low. The woman herself pressed into his back, her warmth seeping against him.

"Looking for something to eat?" Her voice sounded softer than normal, like she was worried about being overheard.

He looked over his shoulder as much as he could. Even so, he could only see her from the corner of his eye and that was hardly enough for him to be satisfied. "That's what one usually does in the kitchen, when they can find something that they so desire  _to_ eat. And you?"

She smirked. "I believe I've found my snack." Her hands had stopped but now continued downward, nimble fingers having no trouble with the button on his trousers. She stroked him, rubbed gently, and felt him grow stiff at her touch. Satisfied with herself, she pressed against him more and took care of the rest of his clothing. "Still don't know what you want?"

He shook his head. "No, I quite know now." At the words she loosened her hold enough to allow him to turn around, and he immediately pulled her against him tightly. He grasped her just beneath her bum, lifted her up so that she had to wrap her legs around his waist. The little squeak of surprise she gave made him smile quickly and then they were kissing like mad.

Severus walked toward the counter slowly, set her down on it, and only then realized she had changed into a nightgown before coming in search of him. His eyes lit up as he grabbed the bottom of the garment and pulled it up and over her head. Gone were the days that she felt embarrassed before him; she sat with anticipation, gave a little moan of pleasure after he began kissing a trail from her jaw down to her folds.

She squirmed as his tongue dipped here and there, as he swirled and sucked. Her nails pricked his shoulders as he brought her almost to the edge and then pulled back and she gave a moan of frustration. "Severus." Her voice was almost raspy with desire. "I swear if you don't take me now, you'll be waking up missing a few parts."

He pulled her from the counter, lowered her directly onto him, and from there lost all control. They were relentless as they settled into a rhythm. The witch dug her nails into his shoulders hard enough to draw blood and worked hard to choke back the sound of her pleasure. Not all the house was soundproof, after all. In the end she bit down on Severus' neck and shuddered as he himself went over the edge.

They gave themselves a couple minutes to recover their breath, and then: "I lo…" And she cut herself off.

But he was not about to let it go, tilted her chin up to look at him. "You what?"

She licked her lips. "I…love…how you make me feel."

He hid his disappointment at the words, stroked her hair. Gave her a gentle kiss. "And I admire you and your talents." With guarded eyes he broke their union, grabbed a couple napkins and gently wiped her inner thighs. When he was finished, he began redressing, albeit not completely. He only buttoned his shirt halfway, threw his cravat over his arm.

Narcissa looked a little hurt herself, and confused. "You aren't coming to bed?"

"There is one more thing I need to see to before my departure, and I would rather take care of it tonight than in the morning." He gave her another light kiss. "I will join you shortly."

He watched her as she set off toward their chambers, and then he walked down the hall in the other direction. Draco had taken to sitting in front of one of the windows on the side of the house, close to his own chambers; Severus figured he would find the boy there, and he wasn't disappointed. He approached quietly, taking care his steps were loud enough that he would be noticed but not loud as to disturb the house. "Draco."

The young man looked up at his former teacher, took in the rumpled and half removed clothing, and then looked away again at whatever he was trying to watch in the night. His jaw was clenched as he struggled to keep words in.

He relented to the temptation, though. "Surprised you aren't with your master…or my mother. What can I possibly offer you?"

The young Malfoy had gotten to his feet now, and turned to look at him. Those grey eyes were steel and storm clouds at once, fighting for dominance in a battle that would be hard won. Severus could understand that, had experienced it. He knew how much it hurt to go through a major change and not be able to do anything about it, and he knew what it was to want someone to be happy. It was everything that the boy was experiencing, and even more, for some.

"I want nothing from you, Draco. I have no demands to make."

"Then I have one," the boy said. "I want to know something."

Severus nodded, indicating his attention.

"That night…" Draco cleared his throat. "When you took Mother before us all, was it as tough on you as it was on her? Or are you the bastard we all saw?"

Severus was almost taken aback by the question, but he was able to keep his expression schooled relatively well. "It was one of the hardest things that I've ever done." His face might give nothing away, but his voice certainly did.

The boy looked at him closely, the gesture saying that he would accept nothing but the truth. "So you really aren't just using her to get a good fuck or to warm your bed, then? You do care for her?"

"At first it was…a fuck…to both of us." Severus looked out the window for a moment, struggling to rid himself of the lump that had risen in his throat. He hated that his face was no longer the mask he wanted it to be before all but Narcissa, hated that his voice was riddled with even more emotion. "But somehow, that's changed." He turned to look at Draco again, so that in the silver moonlight, the boy could see that he wasn't lying. "I more than care for her." Another swallow. "I love her."

Draco looked strangely relieved. He chuckled ruefully. "Of course you do. Couldn't pick someone easy, could you?" He stared back out the window. "She's married to my father."

"She doesn't love him." There was more Severus wanted to say, but refrained.

"He's cruel to her. I know."

"You know?" A sudden pang winced in his chest. "Draco…is your father cruel to  _you_?"

The young man backed away. In the shadows, his curled lip was nearly hidden. "Not anymore." He turned away from Severus, made to head for his chambers. "Just…take care of her. If you can."

Snape watched Draco depart.  _Damned Malfoys_ , he thought.  _They've more layers than leeks do. And speaking of layers…_ He remembered there was a warm witch between cool sheets, and she was waiting for him.

But in their chambers, Narcissa was not in their bed. He found her in the adjoining lavatory, neck deep in thick, sumptuous bubbles. His nostrils flared at the alluring fragrance of dragon's blood. He quirked a brow at her. She quirked one in return. Wordlessly and without invitation, he disrobed and settled in the hot water behind her.

"Did you take care of your business?"

He kissed her temple. "Yes."

She sighed. "I don't want you to leave tomorrow."

He didn't point out that it was already after midnight, meaning he would technically leave  _today_. "I must."

"I know." There was a waver in her voice. "I'll be lost without you, I think."

"Nonsense." His hands caressed her shoulders. "You are the strongest witch I've ever known. You will be the backbone of this house. You will be strong for your son."

"I have a horrible feeling," she whispered.

"What feeling?"

"A feeling that you'll die – that I'll never see you again." Her voice broke and she leaned forward, away from his touch.

His hands chased her. "I will only be at Hogwarts. You've visited before. What should stop you from visiting again? Especially if I am in control there." He pulled her reluctant back to his chest again. "As for dying…" He closed his eyes. "There will be a war soon, Cissa. Many may die. I cannot promise you I will live."

She turned in his arms, held his wet soapy body and kissed him. "Have I made you happy?"

Her tears were breaking him. "Happy? So much more, Narcissa." He stroked the tears from her cheeks. "Come. Let me have this night with you. I don't know when I will see you again."

She cried a little harder, but let him help her from the bath. They kissed as they dried each other, kissed as they crossed the floor, kissed as they slipped into bed. They touched and explored as if they had already been separated and had just reunited. If there had been a magic to turn minutes to hours, they would have used it ten times over.

When finally Severus slid inside her welcoming heat, they cradled each other's faces, swallowed sighs and gasps of pleasure. He moved slowly, watching her eyes, wanting to prolong this pleasure, wanting to remember this moment like a pensieve memory; every texture, sound and sensation; her nails in his shoulders, her cunt clutching him tightly, her abdomen clenching through her orgasm and the motion of her throat as she cried out.

He spilled inside her wishing he could simply take her with him – keep her as a mistress should be kept, tied to his cold bed in the cold castle. He kissed her now moist cheeks. "You unman me, you know."

She smiled against his lips. "I…I will visit you. When I can sneak away."

He nodded. "Good." Her eyes swam with something unspoken. The temptation to enter her mind for a peek was nearly overwhelming, but he resisted. Instead he kissed her eyelids closed, rolled away and pulled her to him. "Sleep," he murmured. "I must be up early." She couldn't have resisted his command if she'd wanted to. When he was certain she was fast asleep, he kissed her forehead. "I wish I could tell you," he whispered. "I wish it was simple…"

Truthfully, he didn't sleep. He stared awake at the bed's canopy or his lover's rising and falling chest. He touched her soft and tousled hair. At 5:19, before dawn even considered breaking, he quietly disengaged from her and dressed. He looked back at her only once.

His feet fell briskly and silently upon the many marble steps. The manor doors swung open at a wave of his wand. Another wave and the elaborate gate at the end of the walk misted. He passed through like a raven through a fog.

Only then, when he knew he was safely from her sight, did he stop and turn in earnest. The looming spires were dim and foreboding. Malfoy Manor slept like the dead. He closed his eyes, saw Narcissa's pale and peaceful face.

His eyes opened. His own pale face hardened. His deep brown eyes blackened. Façade in place, he allowed himself to dissolve. His cloak licked about him like dark devils' tongues as he spiraled into the grey sky, taking flight to Hogwarts – taking flight to hell.


	11. Chapter 11

The school was silent, grim. Though the hour was still early there were no students in the corridors, and most of the professors were either in the lounge room or their own offices. It wasn't time for any of them to begin patrol yet; they were no doubt catching a nap or grading assignments. That was one thing that the headmaster definitely didn't miss about teaching – the paper pushing. Granted, so much of what was turned into him was unworthy of even being read and so he had scrolled through it and applied whatever dismal mark he felt it deserved…but still, there was a lot of parchment to go through.

He sighed as he entered his office, removed his outer frock and tossed it over the back of a chair in front of the desk. It had barely settled before he followed it, not even bothering to go to the 'proper' one for the head of the school. In here, when he wasn't being badgered, he could let the façade down for a few moments. Could think of her.

His eyes closed as he took a couple deep breaths. Narcissa's face came into focus and there was a pang in his chest. Her absence was a hole in him that needed to be filled. He wanted to see her, to kiss her. He wanted to hear her voice, both just in conversation and in the midst of passion. He wanted to touch her, to lay claim to her. He wanted  _her_.

When he opened his eyes again, they were dark with lust.  _Hell._  A flick of his wand sent the heavy curtains over Dumbledore's sleeping portrait snapping closed. (He didn't worry about the other headmasters – he'd had them moved to the library. Their incessant chatter and accusations had nearly driven him insane in just his first hours as headmaster.) Then, he cast a silencing charm.

Thus entombed by quietude, he shamelessly freed his aching erection from his constricting trousers. He thought of his witch while he stroked; of her lovely pale breasts, bouncing as she rode him; of her sinful red lips taking this very length into her throat; the bow of her spine when he took her from behind; and the desperate, breathless quality of her voice when she begged him to talk to her…

His eyes rolled. Strokes became brutal, punishing. And exhilarating as the act of pleasuring oneself in the headmaster's office was, it wasn't for indulgence, but more for necessity – as if he wouldn't function this day without this release. And thankfully it came quickly, with relative ease of cleanup. He hissed her name through the blissful spurt, but was otherwise quiet.

He sighed as he tucked his wand away. How would he make it without her?  _This way, I suppose_ , he thought. His stomach growled. It would be time for breakfast soon, which meant facing all the faces of the great hall… He grunted and stood, stretched. Felt damned better, at least.

He tucked his oxford. Tied his cravat. Summoned his frock coat and shrugged into it smoothly. Flicked his long hair from his collar and spun into his menacing black robes. By the time his billowed down to the first floor, Snape the Bastard was firmly in control.

Breakfast was a silent affair, so far as conversations go. The look on Severus' face at a mere whisper was enough to quell even the bravest students, and the quieter ones were practically shivering in their robes. His eyes roamed over to the first years of every house, but lingered on first Slytherin and then Gryffindor. He remembered the first day he had seen Potter there, how the boy had winced when he noticed Quirrell. It was hard to believe that that had been seven years ago.

He turned his gaze further down the row, where the sixth and seventh years were. Ginny Weasley met his gaze, a challenge burning in her eyes. He'd deal with her later. It was strange seeing her, but not her brother or Granger. The thought of the two of them (but mainly the former) was enough to make his lip curl. In response, Ginny glared. He almost felt like laughing. The girl thought she could do something to him?

A look back to the Slytherin table made him think of Draco. Hopefully the boy was holding up fine; there was no telling what the Dark Lord was having him do. At least Lucius was in no shape to hurt him – or Narcissa.

_Why the hell am I even thinking this way? As though they're_ _ **my**_ _family?_ He chuffed softly to himself, looked back to his sausages and tea. At his right, Minerva McGonagall bristled. He rolled his eyes, knew something was coming. This witch harassed him at every turn…

"They hate you, you know."

He didn't even look at her, could hardly care really. But he humored her just the same. "Who, Minerva?"

She gestured. "Them! The students you are sworn to protect." Her voice lowered and her eyes skated to the abysmal Carrows at the end of the high table. "Letting them be subjected to Unforgivables…Albus Dumbledore –"

"Is dead." Severus interrupted her passionlessly.

"By your hand," the deputy headmistress reminded. "Death Eaters running Hogwarts…I never thought I would see the day."

"Be glad you do see the day," Snape snapped, finally glaring at the witch. "There are many who will never see the light of another day again, and all because they couldn't hold their tongues."

"Your master has certainly turned you sour, Severus." She was red with anger. "Or is it your lack of…another man's wife making you so foul? Hm?" His hands clenched. "You are in charge here. I suppose a clap of your hands and you could have your mistress. Hm?"

He stood suddenly, drawing a gasp from McGonagall and stares from the student body. He loomed over the quieted witch with purposeful intimidation. "You're damned right,  _deputy_. I am in charge here. And trust me…there are many things I could no doubt accomplish with a clap of my hands. See to it the temptation does not arise for me to demonstrate." He turned to leave the table, quite off his breakfast anyway. But he had one final jibe for his difficult associate. "And Minerva? Should another man's wife be seen on these premises…I expect you will respect her." He shot a glance to the frozen, silent students. "Eat!" He barked.

The sounds of very muffled conversation and clinking silver followed him from the Great Hall.

 

* * *

 

Narcissa sat in the dining room, staring at her plate without touching a single thing on it. Even her tea was undisturbed, growing colder by the second. She could feel the eyes on her but was reluctant to meet them. She didn't want to see the harsh accusations from Bella, the lost expression of Lucius, the understanding in Draco's face, or the curiosity in the Dark Lord's seemingly disinterested face. He wanted to know how she was truly dealing with the separation of her and Severus, and to do so properly, eye contact was required. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that it was harder than she had thought it would be.

A throat was cleared, a fork scraped a plate, there was a series of sniffles, and then the throat clearing again. Then: "Cissy, might I have your share?"

Before she could respond, Voldemort did. "Now, now, Bella. Give her a few minutes more, her appetite may be slow in kicking in this morning."

The witch growled, shot her sister a glare that wasn't seen. Murmured under her breath, then, loud enough for them to all hear, "It's slow in kicking in at every meal. She's hardly eaten a thing, it seems, since Snape left."

"As you would, I believe, if you were in her shoes."

Still, Bella wasn't happy. "If I were in her shoes, nothing would be as it is. I would never stoop as low as she does."

At that, Narcissa raised her head, her eyes dark with anger. "I cannot believe you, thinking you can judge me after the things  _you_ have done?" Her lip curled and she stood, hands clenched in tight fists. In his spot on Bella's left, Lucius sniffled again, and his wife whipped toward him. "And you! Can't you stop that damned sniffling? You're like a child constantly mourning the loss of his mother or some beloved pet. You're not a man at all." Her anger grew, a fire fanned, when his eyes widened and the faint scent of urine permeated the air. "Blasted coward is what you are!" Her words were practically screamed.

Stepping around her chair, she headed toward the doors at a furious pace, the air around her nearly rippling with her emotions. Just as she exited she heard Bella say, "Wish Snape were here now. She could use a fuck or two." The Dark Lord laughed.

It was the library she fled to, because it was in the library that she felt closest to Severus. Strange that it wasn't in their chambers, she knew, but they had spent almost as much time together in here as in there. He would sit behind the desk, books spread out all around him, his thick journal right before him as he scrawled various notes about different potions or ideas for spells. He had done this as a student, as a professor, as a 'fugitive', and now she supposed he would continue to do it as the boss of the school. Despite other obligations, he always made time for the things he wanted to do, and those things had always been coming up with his own potions or spells. It, coupled with his uncanny knack for nonverbal spells, was what made him such a formidable opponent in a duel.

While she pictured him doing his work, she had sunk down into the chair he usually used and closed her eyes. His face on their last night together came to her mind immediately. He had looked so sad, then. Sad and happy. And she had seen something in his eyes that she hadn't seen before, something that made her stomach flutter.

She thought of other things too; of the way his hand lingered on her thigh during meals (especially dinner), of the way he felt pressed against her in sleep, of the way he bared himself to her but not to the world, of the way he always took care of her needs before his own. Her eyes jerked open when she felt something flitting about her thighs, lifting her dress, and she realized it was her own hand.  _Oh, what the hell._ With a wave of her wand, she warded off the door and then uttered a silencing spell. And then she was touching herself. It was easy to pretend it was Severus doing it, as he had so many times before. Her fingers dipped and stroked similarly to how his did, and she felt her breathing begin to pick up. She closed her eyes and let the image of her lover fully take over her. As she slipped a finger within herself, she shivered slightly, and completely gave in.

With her release she cried his name, and then she sat still in a stunned silence, the need to just be in his presence overwhelming her.  _I have known him since he was a first year…and yet it is only now that I understand how much influence he has on me,_  she thought. And she knew that she couldn't go much longer before she had to sneak off.

 

* * *

 

 It had rained for three days solid. Occasional long rumbling thunder did nothing to lighten the witch's mood. She was sulking in the parlor one afternoon when Draco found her.

"Mother."

"What?"

"You're moping." That at least earned him a glance.

"Hardly." She shifted her chin to her other hand.

The teenager crossed his arms and leaned in the open archway. "Perhaps you should get out."

"Not possible," Narcissa whispered. The feeling of being imprisoned was heavy and palpable, especially in light of the current weather.

"Suit yourself," her son shrugged. He moved to leave, then paused. "Oh. Meant to tell you. Bella and the Dark Lord have gone out. Gods only know where. They'll be back early tomorrow." Hands in pockets, he walked into the corridor casually. He wasn't surprised to hear her feet skitter to a halt behind him.

"Draco!"

"Yes, mother?" He turned slowly.

"I'll…I'll be back…later."

He smirked. "Thought so."

She flung open the doors of her wardrobe. Dressed hastily in a loose, flowing skirt and silk blouse. In a small charmed bag, she tossed her hairbrush, a toothbrush, knickers. Downstairs, her heels clicked past the study where she glimpsed her husband – head in hands and bent double in his chair. She barely paused. There was nothing she could do for him, or wanted to do for him. The man she yearned to see at the moment was less in need of her and more in want of her – she hoped.

Briskly, she shrouded herself in a deep green cloak with a shadowing hood. It wouldn't do to be recognized. Because of the foul weather, she flood from the drawing room into Borgin and Burke's. Fortunately, the ancient, slippery shopkeeper was distracted by two or three shady customers, so one more walking through made no difference. Outside in a darkened alleyway, she cursed to herself. Raining in Knockturn Alley, too. But she was 0u10ndeterred. She shut her eyes, thought of Severus' hands, and apparated.

"Fuck!" The word was uncharacteristic on her lips – unless in the throes of mindless passion – but appropriate. She'd apparated right into yet another heavy storm, this time just outside Hogsmeade.

"Dammit!" Upset mud coursed over her fine shoes and she growled. In the distance, she saw the significantly dimmed lights of Hogwarts beckoning her on. She soldiered toward the destination none to happily. And her unhappiness increased when she reached the gates of the school. Two Death Eaters stood guard there. A very slight panic tensed her chest. She cinched her hood a little tighter and prepared for humiliation. Instead, she felt the tingle of strong wards, and suddenly the gates were creaking open heavily of their own accord. She concealed her startlement beneath her garment and walked proudly past the unfazed guards. Obviously, Severus had raised wards that recognized Death Eaters and sympathizers…or (dare she hope) just herself?

There was a very somber air about the majestic castle. And she doubted the weather alone was responsible. When the great doors of the main entry opened noisily, she flinched at the sight of the witch who caught her entrance.

"Have you business at Hogwarts?" Minerva McGonagall asked imperiously.

In response, Narcissa lowered her hood. And even aware of the fact she looked like a drowned rat, she held her chin determinedly. "I have business with the Headmaster," she said.

The deputy headmistress scowled. "I'm certain you do." She observed Narcissa's angry and slightly embarrassed flush with great satisfaction. "He is at tea presently. In Alb – his office." She gestured just past the open doors of the Great Hall. "Please be quiet. The students are at study hall."

Cissa nodded once, and softly clicked past the imposing older witch, pride still relatively intact.

"Oh, Mrs. Malfoy?" Minerva couldn't resist stressing her name and Narcissa turned with a slightly more downcast visage. A smirk from McGonagall. "I'm certain he won't mind my telling you. The password to enter is 'narcissus papyraceus.'"

She blinked quickly, watched the other witch depart. Finally found words. "Thank you, Professor."

But McGonagall didn't stop or glance back. And Narcissa mounted the spiral stone staircase with a grim set to her lips. Atop the long climb was a dark and gothic-arched door. The seal upon it was now a snake. The snake blinked at her expectantly. "Narcissus papyraceus," she whispered. The loud clicking of the latch made her jump, and she entered the grandiose room cautiously.

Severus was seated at the enormous desk, an expectant and sour expression on his features. The expression changed when she stepped into the light, and he rose so quickly he upset the tea tray. "Narcissa."

He didn't run to her, sweep her into his arms or kiss her breathless. He simply stared. And she stared back, felt her eyes fill up with hot tears. The emotions all caught up inside her, swirled and roiled and made a mess of things. She covered her mouth with her hand and wished to Merlin she wasn't soaking wet, splattered with mud and about to weep like a woman in front of this man. "Severus," she choked.

He stepped forward, concern widening his eyes. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

She gestured helplessly and let it all come… "It's just too bloody much! The damned rain…days and days of damned rain…and the Dark Lord and how he eats like a feral beast! And orders me about like an elf…and Bella and Draco bickering always…and Lucius sniffling all the time. And the house is so fucking empty, so fucking silent – it's like a grave." She looked down, but didn't even pause when his hands hit her soulders. "Raining in Wiltshire so I flood, raining in Diagon Alley, but I apparated anyway, raining in Hogsmeade and I landed right in a bloody torrential muddy landslide and look at my shoes –"

His mouth covered hers and her rant turned into an indigent's moan. Her fingers couldn't touch him enough and nor could his touch her. Fingers in his hair, she captured his bottom lip between her teeth as he pulled away. "Let's get you out of these wet things," he rasped.

"Oh, yes!" She pulled him back to her lips, the kiss becoming lewd with spit and desire.

Her cloak dropped heavy to the floor. Her wool skirt followed with a splashing sound and they nearly stumbled backward over it. His frock coat covered it. Her blouse, knickers and corset tangled with his own oxford and cravat, finally cast aside in frustration. When her buttocks hit the headmaster's desk, she kicked both ruined shoes across the room and shoved down his trousers. "I've missed you so!" She still couldn't withhold the tears, but he kissed them away, caressed her breasts demandingly.

"Me too." His mouth reacquainted itself with her pebbly nipples and his hands rolled her muddy stockings down her thighs. His strong arms perched her on the desk and his longing fingers explored her wetness while hers stroked his hardness familiarly.

Again, this would not be a tender lovemaking session, and they both knew it. She more than accepted the fact when he snatched her hand from his cock and her arse to the edge of the desk. He caught her gasp in his mouth when he thrust inside her. The burn was insane. How long had it been? She let a scream travel down his throat.

He broke their kiss and she whimpered into his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he muttered in her neck. "I just need you now."

"Ah!" She held onto him for dear life. His rhythm shook the desk, and pain shrouded her pleasure in a mist. But she knew he would make it up to her… She let him take her as he would. After all, they had all this night, at least. She hoped.

Her eyes wandered as she bit her lip to keep from crying out at the pain. To their left was a curtained portrait. Dumbledore, she thought. She squeezed her eyes closed, felt tears escape, stroked her lover's shoulders and back tenderly even in his violent lust. "Severus," she whispered.

He jerked uncontrollably as he filled her with heat and seed. He threw his head back and released a pained silent scream of his own. It was overwhelming. She kissed his chest and neck as he calmed and relaxed. "There, now." She murmured sweetly. "Alright?"

His arms tightened around her. She felt his heart slowing with his breath. "Forgive me, Cissa."

She hugged him back, ignored the shaking in her legs and thighs. "For what?"

"That was monstrous," he said, finally looking at her tearstained face. "I used you terribly."

"I wanted you to," she said, meeting his eyes and not hiding her crying. "I just needed to see you, to have you. I hope I haven't –"

"Stay." He kissed her forehead. "Can you stay? After dinner, I'd like to make love to you properly."

Something in her belly melted. She tried a smile. "I've always wanted to see the headmaster's private chambers."

He stroked her quaking legs and chuffed. "They're quite lavish. You'll feel rather at home, I imagine."

"Home in your arms," she murmured without thinking. Then her eyes widened, flicked away from his. "I mean…"

He tilted her chin toward his stern gaze – stern in their odd tenderness. "I know quite well what you mean, Narcissa." He swallowed and after a moment stepped away. He helped her to her feet, lifted his wand from the desk behind her and summoned their clothing. "Unfortunately, I've a meeting to attend."

He grimaced in a way that suggested he was not looking forward to the meeting. Finding her clothes soaked and muddy beyond his spellwork, the grimace deepened. He grunted and wrapped her in his engulfing robes, gestured to the right. He dressed as he talked."Up the stairs, you will find the headmaster's private chambers. My elf is Ebbit. He will bring you whatever you like without question, and see to your clothes, as well." Buttoning his frock coat, he gave her a lingering kiss. "Rest assured I will return as quickly as possible?"

She nodded, wiped her eyes. Everything was fine, now. For the moment at least. She was with her Severus…

With a final heavy sigh, he stalked – a dark glowering presence – through the office door. Narcissa stared after him, then looked down at herself wrapped hastily in his smooth, liquid robes. Suddenly, inexplicably, she giggled…then billowed up the stairs to Severus' chambers.

The moment she entered the chambers, Narcissa heard a pop and Severus' elf was in front of her. His expression of surprise said he was surprised to see a woman instead of the headmaster; especially since the woman was wearing said headmaster's robes. The witch managed to reign in her giggling, looked down at the elf.

Both were silent for several seconds, then, hands behind his back, the elf spoke. "How may Ebbit be of service, miss?"

Narcissa found herself somewhat surprised, remembering how they had to constantly yell at Dobby to get him to do anything; that elf had very little initiative and was reluctant to serve them anyway. Severus seemed to be luckier. "Downstairs you will find clothes… I need them seen to. And," she swallowed, "I need to bathe."

The elf gave a bow, waved his hand to the left. "The lavatory is just through this doorway, miss. The master keeps his towels in a cabinet inside. Ebbit will wait here for a moment to make sure you doesn't need anything else, if you is approving miss."

She nodded, swept through the door that he had indicated, and felt her jaw drop slightly. It was larger than the one she had at home, though almost identical in design and everything else. Two large cabinets lined the far wall, the doors on each opened slightly. She walked forward, steps echoing dully on the tile floor, and peeked inside them. Each held towels, soft and thick, and all either black or white. Her eyes turned toward the tub itself. Already water was running, steam rising. She shivered, imagining how it would feel after the rain. And then she realized that there was nothing to actually clean herself with.

Going back out, she found Ebbit waiting just where he said he would be. "Where is the shampoo? Soap?"

"Look again, miss."

She left the door open, went back to find a small table next to the bath. Her favorites sat upon it, all lined up. Racing back to the door, eyes wide, she looked at Ebbit. "How did you know what I wanted? How, Ebbit?!"

He shrank back ever so slightly. "Master Snape keeps it here, in case you should visit, miss. He tells Ebbit that should the mistress arrive, Ebbit is to have everything that she likes available. Master Snape wants you to be as comfortable as possible, miss." He looked at the black fabric wrapped around the witch. "Does you want something else to wear for when you are finished, miss?"

Narcissa shook her head. "Just see to the clothes below." She watched the elf as he bowed and disappeared with a soft snap, and then she turned around. When she sank down into the water she let out a soft sigh, all her muscles thanking her for the heat. Her eyes slowly drifted shut as she relaxed physically, mind still playing over Ebbit's last words. She had known for a while that they were no longer just using each other, but she was having a hard time believing how much Severus paid attention to. Lucius had never been able to name even one of her favorite fragrances…and  _this_ man knew them all, even though he had never so much as asked her. And Ebbit had called her 'the mistress', a term she had only ever heard elves use when referring to their master's lady. Her heart pounded faster with the realization that she meant more to the enigma of a man than she had thought she did…he truly cared for her.

An hour later, Severus found her wrapped again in his robes, whisking about his chambers and giggling. The action amused him so he let her continue for a couple minutes as he leaned against the doorframe, smiling slightly. When she finally noticed him it was of her own accord, and she came to a sudden halt. The fabric swirled around her ankles as her arms hung at her sides, her expression one of slight confusion, as if she couldn't decide whether or not to be ashamed of her fun or happy to see him. "Your mood has greatly improved." He strode forward, gait liquid.

Confusion dissolved, she let herself smile again. "And all thanks to you."

He kissed her softly, rested a hand on her hip. "The bath helped?"

"Mm." She was loathe to separate from him. "And your elf made things easier. You don't have to yell at him."

He gave a soft chuckle. "Ebbit has never been anything but perfectly happy to serve, and eager to please. A fortunate thing, that." He gave her another kiss, stroked her soft hair. "I do enough yelling as it is."

She playfully pulled away. "Then perhaps I should leave."

His arms snaked out to grab her and he pulled her against his chest, locking his grip around her. "You aren't going anywhere at the moment."

"Not even the bed?" She moved against him, the fabric around her slipping slightly to give him a glimpse of her breasts.

He started aching again. "I do make exceptions..."

"How was your meeting?"

"There have been better ones."

Narcissa moved again. "But you refrained from killing anyone?"

"Yes." His mouth turned into a half smile. "And I was told that I am only slightly less imposing as you see me now."

"Well in that case, I may just keep your robes. I quite like them." She giggled at his expression, which said that no such thing would be happening, and wormed her way out of his grip. "If you want them, you'll have to take them back." And then she turned away and began running. She didn't really expect him to go along with it, but he gave chase. They looped the room a few times before he reached for the end of the robes but missed.

Narcissa leapt onto the bed and giggled again as he growled, not anticipating that he would pounce on her. He pinned her to the bed, grabbed her wrists, and held them above her head. "I consider this taking. Do you?" When she gave a nod, he let his hold loosen and met her lips again. Then neither could get enough of the other, and Severus found his clothes shed faster than they had ever been before. Narcissa wriggled out of the black, let him toss it to the floor.

And then they were exploring each other again, this time in a much gentler fashion than in the office. Apologies were in every touch of Severus': apologies for how he had left, for his lack of contact since they had separated, for the pain he had caused her at their last union. And in every one of hers, Cissa tried to convey that it was okay, that all she wanted – needed – was to be with him.

When they came together this time, Narcissa felt only a slight burn that disappeared after a couple thrusts. She gasped as Severus gave her breasts attention as they moved, whimpered as he set her skin to tingling everywhere he touched. "Narcissa." He thrust again, put his lips closer to hers. "I love you. Every inch of you. Your very being. All of you."

She felt her eyes widen and her mouth form an 'oh'. He had to choose now of all moments to tell her how he felt? Were he any other man she could believe that his words were just the result of the sex – but Severus was not just any man. This was the man who had once had to be encouraged to talk to her at all when they were blowing each other out of this world and into another, who never let down his mask in company other than hers, who was braver than the whole mass of Death Eaters put together. This was her son's professor, the headmaster of Hogwarts, the Dark Lord's most trusted, a murderer, and a savior. This was a man who did not waste words.

But she could play it off. She stroked his chest and down his back until she felt her toes curl and the world rocked around her. Her orgasm pulled him over the edge too, and for several breaths they stayed as they were, watching each other's faces silently. There was something in his eyes that made her feel guilty, a baring to such degree that she had never seen in him before. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as he cleared his throat and separated from her, rolled so that he was behind her.

Why had he chosen now to tell her how he felt? She closed her eyes in the flickering light of the sconces. Severus' arm slipped over her midriff, pulled her close. "Alright?" He asked.

She nodded, didn't turn, couldn't show him the gathering tears, the weakness they implied. "I'm fine."

He was quiet a moment. "You'll stay tonight?"

"I will." How could she tell him she would stay forever if it was in her power? "I must leave early – before Bella and the Dark Lord return."

He kissed the nape of her neck. "Of course." If he wondered at her lack of reaction to his earlier revelation, he did not voice the curiosity. "You will return if you can?"

Something hot burned in her throat. Perhaps he'd already forgotten the words spoken in passion's grip? She pulled his fingers to her lips. "Yes," she murmured against them. "Always."


	12. Chapter 12

The days since Narcissa's visit to Hogwarts passed interminably. She was trapped in her home, in the darkness of her son's depression, the spiral of her husband's descent, the terror of her sister's madness, and the simple presence of the Dark Lord. The vile wizard had grown more and more unhinged of late, and Cissa could hardly speculate why.

She hid – like a coward – and encouraged her son to join her. He did not resist, having been violently grilled by his aunt and master for any possible Potter hideouts. He'd known of none, of course, and was deemed useless again. So he nested with his mother; read, ate, played wizard's chess with her. They slept in the same bed often – just slept, and listened for each others' breathing in the night if nightmares woke one or the other.

They grew insular and ever-wary. Their wide eyes were prone to darting into shadowed corners, and their ears were keen to any sound that could be approaching footsteps. Sometimes, they heard shouting from below; Lucius, Bella, the Dark Lord or all three.

Prisoners arrived. The wand maker. Lovegood. Temporary faces that Draco didn't recognize. Their screams would echo off the stone walls when they cried out for food or attention. Bellatrix would often demand Draco tend to them, but Narcissa insisted on taking his turns herself. She refused to have her son exposed to situations he was powerless to control.

She knew her boy was torn – knew it with certainty when his eyes had briefly met the Lovegood girl's eyes. Narcissa recognized the desperation there, the  _struggle_. Nights now she'd lain awake, hearing Draco's breath and thinking,  _If I had a chance…what would I do?_

She thought of Severus' bravery, his boldness and fearlessness. She often just thought of Severus. She knew Draco could tell when her thoughts turned because he would invent some distraction for them. "Let's have a constitutional, mum. It's sunny."

"Yes, darling…" But walking rarely distracted her. And at Beltane, when Potter slipped through their fingers like so much sand, she ached for an ounce of Severus' strength and his arms around her for a perfect moment.  _I should have told him I loved him. Why didn't I tell him I loved him?_

It was a question that daunted her frequently, confronted her in every quiet moment. In the solace of an evening bath (her son on watch detail outside), she could close her eyes and remember the words with the clarity of a pensieve memory; his lips near hers, his hands caressing her hip and back, his cock like salvation inside her and his words - so close to her own mouth she could taste them – breathing, "I love you."

And in hindsight, she could enumerate the fears which at that moment had stopped her tongue. How she'd never known love, disbelieved in it, refuted it. How she'd seen sex as both a shield and a crutch – a convenient and (if one was lucky – pleasurable) way to achieve an end and had never known touch to be such an intensive conduit for emotion. How she'd never shared her magic in such an ephemeral way, and how that meant some great mystery had presented its solution to her.

Then she remembered other words he'd said to her. About not living through this war.

 _I need to tell him._  She wrapped her towel around her, dripping head to toe.  _It's simply imperative I get to Hogwarts and tell him. But how?_

She cast a drying charm and shimmied impatiently into her camisole and knickers.  _Perhaps Draco will cover for me. Tell them I've…tell them I'm ill. I'll only need a moment, after all. Only a few seconds for a few words. I can ask him._

She gasped in hot startlement when she reached for the lavatory door handle only to have the door violently wrenched open for her.

Her husband stood before her on the other side of a dim threshold, and behind his leather bedecked form, her son. "Lucius!"

His eyes roved her form perfunctorily, but not in desire. "Dress," his hoarse voice commanded. "It's time."

And he swept away with a semblance of the importance she'd once seen in him every day.

"Time?" Her eyes drifted to her son.

"We're going to Hogwarts, mother." He approached her, holding dark, thick attire over to her.

"Hogwarts?" Her fingers were numb on the fabric.

Draco nodded solemnly.

"Why?"

Leaving, he paused in her doorway and looked back. "To fight, mother." And then he was gone.

A heavy thing hurt in her stomach. She closed a fist over the offending stone. "No," she whispered. "Not yet…"

Things were not any easier for Severus. Days on end would pass with him receiving little to no sleep, trapped in a school that was flooded with memories both good and bad. As of late the memories were bad, with Death Eaters tearing students to shreds, students completely disappearing, and Dumbledore chewing him out through his portrait. The current headmaster sat in front of his desk right now, where he once sat while in the office, so that he could look at the deceased wizard. Minerva McGonagall sat to Severus' right, perched at the edge of her seat with her back as stiff as a board and her lips pursed.

Severus snuck a look at the witch from the corner of his eye. Her face, though so very familiar, was different. She looked like she had aged several years in the last few months alone, and she had been losing weight. There was a stab of something that he thought might be guilt, since he knew that he was probably more than partly responsible. After all, it was his actions that had been driving her to this….though they were actions that had been brought around by her beloved Albus.

When Minerva snuck a glance over at Severus she saw a man who was very different from the one she thought she knew. He still sat straight and proud, but he was tired. She could see that in the lines of his face. They were all tired. She had seen that in everyone besides him, had assumed that he was – while not all fine and dandy – faring better because of his position. He was allowing and instigating most of what everyone had to endure, after all. But there was something else there in his face, something she wasn't sure she was seeing: worry. There was something or someone he was concerned for. It didn't take much effort to guess that it was Narcissa Malfoy – and that just made Minerva stiffen more.

The clearing of a throat made the pair look up at the portrait. Dumbledore sat there, arms folded casually before him and resting on the desk. He looked pleased to see the current lack of arguing. "Severus, Minerva." He nodded to each as he spoke their name. "I trust you're enjoying your evening."

Minerva's eyes cut to her left and she gave a terse nod. Severus gave a slight shrug. "It is the same as nearly every other, Dumbledore. Spent doing the things you have asked."

The witch snorted. "Doing things that Albus has asked? I hardly consider letting the Carrows run rampant in the school and kissing the hem of  _his_ robes to be behavior he approves of!"

Severus felt himself stiffen. This argument again? "Minerva, why do you insist on joining in on meetings with us if we must go through this every time?"

"Someone should know what you're doing. You aren't playing both sides anymore, Severus, not to me."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I know you're really loyal to a vile beast. You would do anything to make Albus think otherwise, but the truth is that it was  _you_ who killed him and the faith of most of the wizarding world. This is all your fault, Severus."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Minerva, please. We have gone over this before. These meetings are not to determine who is at fault but rather to talk about the progress of the education at the school."

Her nostrils flared. "I don't see how you can handle it so calmly, Albus. This man killed you and yet you sit there as if nothing is wrong and talk about education!"

"You speak as if you know everything, Minerva, when the truth is that you know hardly any of what really happened or is happening." There was a touch of anger to Snape's tone.

"Then enlighten me!"

Neither noticed Dumbledore slip out of his portrait.

Severus didn't speak, but watched her, and so he saw when she realized.

"This has something to do with the Malfoy witch, doesn't it?" The only response she got was his fingers tapping his right leg. She scowled, her eyes hardening. "I never thought a man like you would be ruled by some woman you're only using, Severus. Of course, there are several things about you that are different from what I once believed." She stood and hurried from his office, leaving him to his thoughts.

He knew she was right, in a way. He was a different person than the one she believed him to be, in more ways than one. But it wasn't that that he dwelled on. No, his thoughts were concentrated all on Narcissa. Moments like this, he longed to feel her, to hold her against him. He wanted to listen to her breathing, to taste her lips. He thought about their last night, about how he had finally confessed his feelings for her and how she hadn't returned the three words. He knew how she felt, having overheard her telling her son, but that wasn't the same…and she didn't know that he had been there to hear.

There was a slight pang in his chest as he rose from his chair and looked toward the stairs that led to his chambers. It had been torture these last few months, having to sleep there without her. He sighed heavily, and then settled by the fireplace with parchment and a quill. Dipping its tip in ink he began to write a letter that he wouldn't send.

A knock on his door, hours later, jerked him from his work. Already he had filled up several rolls of parchment and then burned most of them, keeping only a couple on a small table beside him. "What?" His tone was sharp and short.

A seventh year Slytherin opened the door almost shyly, and then she gave the headmaster a look. "Potter has been spotted, Professor Snape. You asked that we let you know."

His quill froze, a drop of black falling to splatter on the parchment. "Potter? You're sure?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir. Granger and Weasley are with him."

' _As always.'_ He stared into the flames for a moment, then looked over at the girl and gave her a dismissive nod. A stone settled heavily in his stomach. He hadn't seen his lover since she had come to him so long ago…and he didn't expect to live through the night.

She'd cowered ashamedly throughout most of the night's battle, avoiding the fighting, hiding in the forest. She grasped at passing Death Eaters with clutching fingers, begging for news of her son. She kept her worries for Severus to herself, and never once thought to ask after her husband. And when Potter was finally felled, all she could think was, "Please, goddess. Let this be over…"

But the end brought with it a new level of panic. The witch tried to keep her head about her just the same. She kept up an internal monologue.  _Keep breathing. Keep looking. Find your son. Find Severus. Get the hell out._

She'd lied to the Dark Lord. Potter was alive and breathing and who knew what the devil would happen when this fact came to light. Narcissa was terrified to find out, and terrified to think she might not see her son alive again – or the man she'd come to love. She bit her lip as the victorious throng approached Hogwarts and began scanning the gathering crowd with a mother's desperate eye.

She was deaf to Voldemort's ramblings and numb to Lucius' tightening grip on her arm until she heard her husband hiss, "There." She followed his abbreviated gesture to a cluster of students spreading into the dessimated courtyard. "Draco!" Lucius demanded. "Come here."

She tensed and watched her son hesitate. She wondered… "Draco." He turned to her gentler tone. She hoped her eyes conveyed her fear. Her shaking hands opened toward him. "Come." She cringed to see the Dark Lord's arms around her son.  _How dare he hold my boy before I do?_

But then Draco was near her. He smelled like fire, and as she shrugged away Lucius' possessive hand, she shuddered to imagine what her son had endured.

And then Longbottom was talking. And then a sword was drawn. And then all hell broke loose, and self-preservation became paramount in her mind. She took her son's hand in hers, and sought refuge amidst the maelstrom, vaguely aware that her husband cowered in her wake. The battle wasn't won just yet, but she had a fair idea the light would be victorious, and felt an odd relief in that knowledge.

The Great Hall smelled of smoke, magic, fire and blood. The Malfoys huddled together beneath a torn Gryffindor blanket. Lucius seemed frozen, empty of even the ability to react. Nothing seemed to reach him.

Draco shook uncontrollably, probably from shock. Narcissa stroked his head and he made no attempt to pull away. She knew he was in a pitiful state and whispered soothing words to him. Aurors mingled in the crowd, taking Death Eaters into custody. "Don't worry, Draco," she murmured. "When they come for you, go peacefully. I promise you there will be a time to prove –"

"They won't take him."

She looked up at the softly spoken words. Draco followed her startled gaze. "Mr. Potter," she breathed.

"I believe I owe you that much, Mrs. Malfoy. And I believe I owe you as well, Draco." Potter's intense green eyes settled on Lucius and the curl of his lip couldn't be missed. "I don't know what I can do for him, though."

 _Fuck him_ , Narcissa thought. "Mr. Potter?"

"Yes?"

"Have you any word about…Severus Snape?" She felt Draco's eyes on her for a fleeting second and hardly cared.

Harry may have been curious as to her question, but he didn't voice it. "He's dead," he answered. Something in his tone made him seem sad, somehow. "I'm going to retrieve his body now. He's a hero."

She heard the ocean. It was peace in her ears. Her brain and mouth were not communicating with each other. "That's not possible," she whispered. Potter blinked at her. "Take me to him!"

Harry backed away slowly, nodding as she rose unsteadily to her feet. Draco held to her hand even as she stepped away. "Mother…"

She looked back at her son, eyes misting with tears. "I have to go," she choked. "Watch your father."

Granger and Weasley intercepted them, but Harry waved them away with a few gentle words. They seemed to understand, and hung back. On the way to the shrieking shack, her boots seemed muffled in the soft charred ground. "Um…do you know about your sister?" Potter asked hesitantly.

"Is she dead?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Molly Weasley."

Narcissa let out a rueful laugh. "Perfect."

"Mrs. Malfoy." The Whomping Willow barely trembled. It had been injured in battle, and Potter briefly stroked its trunk as they entered the secret passage.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

She seemed remarkably intent on reaching their goal. Harry helped her over the gnarled roots and scattered detritus in the passageway. "Why did you do it?" He asked.

"Do what?" Her hair snagged on a protruding root and she tugged it free impatiently.

He stopped, forcing her to pause as well. "Why did you lie? About me being dead? If you just wanted to find your son, you could have just as easily told the truth. It was pretty risky for you to tell him I was –"

"Mr. Potter."

"Yes?"

"Are we alive right now?"

"Yes."

"Then you have your answer. Now, let's go."

Walking, he addressed her again. "I didn't know Snape meant anything to you." They'd reached the ladder that would take them to the dusty shrieking shack.

"No one knew," she answered absently.  _Even him._

Harry climbed and pushed open the creaky door in the floor. "I should warn you," he said. "It was quite…bloody." The witch made no response – just held out her arms and let him pull her up.

A crack in shack's walls allowed a sliver of silver morning light to bisect the room. Dust motes swirled and danced within it, but couldn't distract the eye from the body in the light's final arch.

A sprawl of black like spilled ink – a raven battered by a storm. Severus was as white as parchment, his robes as black as pitch, his once white cravat scarlet with blood. The darkening pool surrounding him completed the tragically beautiful painting.

Narcissa felt her knees go weak. She lurched toward him with the last of her strength and crumpled, oblivious to his blood beneath her knees.

Potter watched the witch with growing wonder. Awe clenched in his chest like a fist as realization dawned. This wizard no one had known or loved had indeed been quite loved – and by the most unlikely of witches. The young man suddenly felt he should look away, or even leave, but he simply couldn't.

For a few seconds, her elegant hands hovered over Snape's prone form. Then, strangely, she tore her thick, quilted frock coat from her body, leaving behind a thin, linen tunic. Perhaps she'd needed to feel closer to her lover, because once the constricting layer was removed, she flung herself upon his body. Harry winced at her sobs, thought of all those who'd been lost…

"Severus," she gasped. "Severus! Don't do this. Don't leave me!" She held him tighter and Harry heard the professor's body shift in the slight witch's arms. She was stronger than she looked, apparently. "I should have told you," she continued. "I meant to! I was going to but I was so bloody  _scared_! And now…" Still mindless of the plentiful blood, she pressed her lips to Snape's. "Now it's too late." She kissed his sticky red jaw. "I loved you, Severus." She rocked him back to the floor, lay her head against his chest. "I love you."

The room grew quiet save for her sobs and the shaking of her shoulders. Harry maintained a respectful distance, and kept his eyes to the floor. It seemed some reverence was required in this moment, and his mind was working, too.

Obviously, Snape had not known of Narcissa's feelings. She'd admitted that much to his corpse. But Harry wondered if the emotion was returned – if the enigmatic man on the floor had ever truly moved beyond his binding love for Lily Evans and managed to embrace another.  _I hope so_ , Harry thought, looking back to the drama unfolding before him.  _I hope he loved again._

Narcissa had grown unnaturally still. Harry experienced a brief worry that perhaps a grieving witch would be more than he could handle. His forehead creased and he shifted uncomfortably. The thought seemed terribly ironic considering he'd just brought down Voldemort, but still…

"Mr. Potter?"

Her voice was surprising after so much silence. "Hm?"

She shifted and her wide, pretty eyes met his. "Harry…he's alive!"

Harry's eyes widened at her words, and he turned his head to the side slightly to look at her with an expression that clearly said he wasn't sure that he believed her. "Mrs. Malfoy, I was here when…when it happened. There's no way that he could have lived." The flash in those blue eyes scared him.

"I thought I was imagining it, but his lips were warm – barely. I can hear his heart beating. He is  _alive_!"

Still unconvinced, the teenager moved to Snape's other side and placed his hand on the man's chest after the witch moved. He could feel nothing. For a brief second he was tempted to try to bind Narcissa with magic so he could get her out of here, but then he realized that if it were him lying on the ground Snape would do all he could to ensure that he would live. Awkwardly, Harry lowered his head to the man's chest and his eyes widened.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" Now it was he who shifted, and she who met his eyes. "I think we better get him to St. Mungo's immediately."

The faintest smile settled on her lips. "I'm inclined to agree with you."

Getting him out required both of their magic. Narcissa walked slightly ahead, clearing things from the path that would make it hard to maneuver Snape. Harry walked behind her, Snape floating ahead of him. The boy found it slightly odd that he was once again in the 'secret' passage with the man being floated out. This time Sirius wasn't the one in control of getting him out, wasn't bashing his head against everything that he could. This time, Harry actually cared about the man.

Everything after they climbed out of the passage happened so quickly that it was a blur. Neither Harry nor Narcissa could have identified anyone who helped them get to St. Mungo's or anyone who tried to stop them. At the hospital Harry did some explaining to make the staff understand that Snape was really on the 'good' side but Narcissa had no idea what he said. Narcissa was allowed to go with Snape while the medi-wizards worked, but she had no idea what Harry said to get them to allow it. And to be honest, she didn't care.

Two hours passed in complete silence for Harry, alone in the waiting area of whatever floor they were on; he hadn't bothered to look. And then company arrived in the forms of Draco, Ron, and Hermione. The couple hung back and sat in chairs closer to the door they had just come through while Draco glanced around, obviously looking for his mother as he approached the boy-who-lived. He sat down next to Harry. "Where is she?"

"With him. She didn't want to leave his side for a single second." Looking at the young Malfoy, he observed that he had already recovered quite a bit. Madam Pomfrey's doing, he had no doubt.

"She never does."

Harry's eyebrow shot up. "She said no one knew he meant anything to her."

Draco gave a very slight chuckle. "Means, Potter. Not meant." He looked down at his shoes. "I knew."

That surprised Harry too. "How could you? Even he didn't."

"Actually, I think he did."

"But I heard her, when we were in the shack and we thought he was gone. She said she should have told him."

"You don't always have to say it for someone else to know."

They were silent for a few minutes, then: "Does she mean anything to him?" Harry kept his head ducked, looking at Draco sideways.

The blond nodded.

"Does he love her?"

Another nod. "Immensely."

"I hope he makes it."

Draco's expression was one of confusion and surprise. "Yet you hated him."

"I hated the man I saw. It was…an act. All of it."

"Him being a double agent?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. He was a damned good one, wasn't he?"

"Obviously, Potter. He made the entire wizarding world think he was working for the Dark Lord." The familiar Malfoy drawl was back, somewhat.

A quip formed on Harry's tongue, but he bit it back. This was not the time. A glance up showed Narcissa walking toward them, and he gave her a slight nod. "I'll let you two talk alone."

He had only taken a couple steps when Narcissa called out for him to stop. "Mr. Potter, do you have his wand?" At his nod she held out her hand, watched him withdraw it from his coat and then he gave it to her. "Thank you." She turned around and hurried back the way she had come, leaving the audience waiting yet again.

They didn't deserve to be with him, not yet. The healers had finished with him a little while ago, had finally decided to leave her alone. She sat down in the chair next to the bed, put his wand on the little table close to it, took his hand in hers. He was paler than usual, but his skin was warmer now. Quickly she grew tired of sitting there. A glance around showed no staff nearby, so she slipped onto the bed next to him and curled into his side. Her head rested on his chest. The rhythm of his heart gradually lulled her into sleep.

Draco slipped into the room about an hour later, when the rest of the group meandered off in search of food. How they had an appetite he wasn't sure, but he didn't mention his disbelief to them. And he figured that they all needed to eat, anyway, even if it was just to keep up their strength – his mother especially.

As he closed the door behind him, he started to speak, but cut himself off at the sight before him. Narcissa lay with Severus, grasping his hand in her sleep. Exhaustion was plain on her face, even now; he was glad she was resting. And so, not wishing to disturb her, he sat down in the chair she had vacated previously. In moments, he was asleep to the sound of his mother's deep, even breathing…

Narcissa woke to the sound of gentle knocking.  _A nurse_. She rose gingerly, wiping at her eyes and touching her hair into place. Draco snored softly in a chair near the bed and she smoothed his brow. He snorted, smacked his lips and snored a little louder. She smiled and opened the door.

But it was no nurse standing on the other side. It was Minerva McGonagall – looking straight as ever, but slightly less proud. In fact, if Narcissa had to name the expression on the older witch's face, she would call it tortured. "Professor." Cissa dipped her head in respect.

McGonagall tisked. "I believe we've reached the level of acquaintance wherein we can use first names, don't you, Narcissa?"

"Very well…Minerva."

"May I come in?"

"He's still unconscious."

"But he's alive."

"Yes."

"Then I must see him. There are things…I need to say." She sniffed. "Please."

And Narcissa drew up a little straighter herself, recognizing the writ of witches: He's yours, and I'm asking for your permission to involve myself with him in some way.  _Well played, Gryffindor._ She stepped aside gracefully. "By all means, Minerva."

"McGonagall's coming!" Draco jolted from sleep on this blustered exclamation, nearly toppling from his chair.

Minerva's lips pursed at the boy. "You're not at Hogwarts right now, Mr. Malfoy." She patted his shoulder as she moved to Severus' bedside. "Relax."

Narcissa, hiding a smile behind her hand, murmured to her son. "Draco. Would you kindly fetch some tea for us?"

Draco, still flustered from sleep and his embarrassing alarm, took the hint. "Yes, mother. I'll just…find some tea…somewhere…far away."

"Not too far, son."

"Right." He was out the door nearly tripping.

Minerva wasted no time. She knew it was pointless to ask the Malfoy witch to leave, and had no shame in her shame, anyway. She addressed Severus as though he was sitting at the dining table in the Great Hall. "Severus. I'm afraid I've made your last weeks on this Earth quite difficult – a living hell, even. I owe you an apology and I'm giving it now. And don't bother feigning this sleep. I know you can hear me. You were always a cheeky snake, but you bloody well paid attention. You could have told me, dammit! You and Albus and your scheming… I wanted to trust you! I would have done anything in my power to help you!" She took a deep breath. Narcissa stepped to the window, looking out into the charmed mists surrounding St. Mungo's.

"But it's over now." Minerva continued calmly. "And we've won. Thanks to you. So when you're done healing up and being a lazy sod, come back to Hogwarts. There's work to do there, and it needs a proper Head."

Her piece said to Snape, she turned briskly to the other witch in the room. "Now. Narcissa."

Cissa's eyes widened. "Yes?"

"I won't pretend. Potter's told everything. What you did in the forest…it was incredibly brave. You took an enormous risk. We owe our victory to you, as well."

"The victory is owed to many, Minerva. Including yourself."

She looked to Severus. "I could have done more."

"He would never have told you." Narcissa assured. "Just as he never told me. It would have endangered us, in his eyes. And Severus only protected the people he cared for."

"Will he forgive me?"

"Oh, goddess bless…Yes." She moved toward Minerva, stopped just short of reaching out to her. "He forgives when it is deserved. But Minerva…you owe no apologies. You did just as you were meant to do! Just what he would have expected."

"I tried to kill him!"

Narcissa smirked. "Just as he would have expected."

Seeing she would get no further, Minerva hmphed and turned to the door. "You will please keep me appraised of his condition, Narcissa?"

"I will. Minerva?" McGonagall turned in the doorframe. "Thank you. For caring for him. I know it's…hard for a lion to wrap arms round a snake."

The matron's eyes misted. "But not so hard for another snake, eh?" Narcissa blushed, and Minerva left with a satisfied smile.

Alone again, Cissa perched at Severus' bedside and took his cool hand. "It must be flattering to discover so many people cared about you, love. Surely you won't keep them all waiting?"

Then Draco stepped into the room, precariously levitating a laden silver tea tray and three cups and saucers. Narcissa watched him bite his lip in concentration, focused entirely on his delicate task. He lowered the load onto a rolling table before smiling up proudly from his work.

His smile fell when he glanced around the room to find their visitor gone. "Oh, you're  _joking_?"

Narcissa couldn't withhold a laugh at his frustration over wasted work, but strangely the laughter turned to tears, and her son wrapped arms around her. "There, there, mum." He murmured. "The tea's not  _that_  bad."

She snorted in his embrace and Draco kissed the top of her head. "He'll wake up soon. In fact, it'd be nice if he'd wake up and have that third cuppa…"

Cissa snorted again. It felt damn good to laugh. She smiled up at her son – the young man who meant as much to her as the man in the bed beside her. They were  _alive_ , breathing near her, holding her, promised to her forever. She leaned her head against Draco's chest, heard his heart beating strongly. Her fingers curled around Severus' wrist, felt his pulse pumping surely.

And that felt damn good, too.


	13. Chapter 13

For four days healers were constantly nagging Narcissa to go home, telling her that they would let her know the instant there was any change. She didn't believe them, and so she stayed. Her waking hours were usually spent sitting in a chair at Severus' bedside; her nights were spent in the bed, against his side. Draco left after the second day, though he returned every few hours to check on the couple, and Narcissa rarely registered whether or not anyone else swept through to check on the newly crowned hero.

In fact, at the moment, she was finding it hard to register anything. It was nearing two o'clock in the morning and her eyes were beginning to burn from being awake for so long – but she was determined not to sleep. She had a suspicion that this would be the night something would change. Draco thought it was stupid, but she knew better. She had had this feeling before. And she wasn't to be disappointed now.

She was lying down, stretched out and holding onto one of his hands when she heard a slight moan. For a second she ignored it, but then it came again, louder. Frowning, she propped herself up slightly and turned her head towards his, and nearly froze. Severus' eyes were open and he was trying to talk. Her hand acted seemingly of its own accord, flicking and summoning a glass and then filling it with water as her brain tried to register that this was no dream. He was really awake.

Trembling slightly, she held the cool drink to his lips and watched his throat work as he swallowed. When half the beaker was gone, she gently pulled it away but kept it in her hand. For seconds, neither spoke. Narcissa searched his face, though she couldn't say for what, and then settled on his eyes. Even now his gaze was intense, and the witch was relieved that that hadn't changed.

"I should have died earlier, if this is heaven." His voice was softer than its usual volume, but it was his nevertheless, and he was speaking. Speaking! He lifted a hand to his neck and felt the bandages there, wished he could just tear them off. For any 'normal' injury he could have, but that damned snake and her venom were far from normal. So instead, he put his hand back down and he kept his eyes on his witch, watching as a myriad of emotion flitted across her face. There were tears, shining bright on her cheeks, but she was smiling. "Honestly, Narcissa, you needn't cry."

The tears came faster and she seemed to forget that she was holding the water; Severus watched as the glass slipped from her fingers and hit the floor, shattering into a million pieces and mixing with the droplets flying every which way. And then she was leaning over him and pressing her lips to his. She threw herself into the kiss, and as the wizard tasted the salt from her tears he imagined he could almost taste everything she was feeling. Regret, for something. Relief. Happiness. Fear.

She pulled away after they couldn't breathe, and resumed her previous position of laying against him, though she knew for sure that she wouldn't be sleeping for a while yet. Despite the slight discomfort it caused, he moved his arm to hold her. There was normality to their positions that felt right and natural, more so now than it had before. ' _Although_ ," he thought, ' _it isn't as if we were really ever able to do this for longer than a few minutes_.'

They lay in silence for a while, and then Narcissa sighed softly. "Remember the last time we were together? At the school?"

"Mhm." Boy, did he… It was all he had thought about several nights, and quite a few days. And as delightful as that memory was, it was torture too.

She licked her lips and then propped her head up using her elbow. "I meant to tell you then, but I was too scared because of the Dark Lord, Bella, Lucius…everything. My life was practically out of my own control and I didn't want anything to happen to you because of me, so I didn't tell you. I kept it inside, and then I thought you were dead and it was too late. And I panicked because I was stupid and couldn't do what I know was hard for you to do: admit something." She took a breath. "I love you. I love you so much it scares me sometimes."

And she was crying again, shaking. He splayed his hand against her back, and with some effort reached across himself with his free hand to make her pick her chin back up to look at him. Her eyes seemed a darker shade of blue because of the tears, and seeing the witch in this state over him only further solidified how he felt about her. "So where do we go from here?"

She smiled and sniffled. "Wherever you want to go."

They whispered for a time, plans and thoughts, until Severus drifted into sleep again. Narcissa followed after him, feeling as though a great weight had dropped off her shoulders. She woke to gentle hands on her shoulder. "Mother."

"Draco." She murmured and pushed onto one elbow.

"Morning. I brought you tea."

"How thoughtful." The reply came not from Narcissa, but from a slit-eyed Severus.

"Merlin's fuckhole!" Draco leapt back from the bed, upsetting a small table and the flowers there. "You're awake!"

"How very observant you are, Mr. Malfoy."

"So they can cure magical snake venom, but not sarcasm, I see," Draco grumbled.

"What?" Snape asked loudly.

"Nothing."

Narcissa went for the teapot, missing the exchange between her son and her lover. "Would you care for a cuppa, Severus?"

He struggled to sit up a bit. "Please."

"How do you feel?" Draco asked, taking the seat by the bed.

"Like arse. You?"

The boy shrugged. "I'm fine, I suppose. I have news."

"What news?" Narcissa perched again on the bed's edge, passed Severus his tea. His hand curled around her hip and Draco tried to ignore it.

"Good or bad first?" He asked.

Cissa frowned. "Bad, I think. Then good."

Draco nodded. "Good choice. Dad's off his nut."

"Pardon?"

"I said, dad's off his nut. He's gone barmy, mum. He's let the peacocks into the house. Last night, he had them all seated at the dining table for a five-course meal."

Narcissa blinked at him. "Draco, are you certain –"

"He's given them names like Nipsy, Bootsy, Wilmot and King Nibbits."

"Oh no." Narcissa covered her face with her hands. Severus snorted laughter, then hissed at the pain it caused his neck. "What's the good news?"

Draco grinned. "Potter's spoken to the Wizengamot on our behalf. The Malfoys are cleared of any charges of consorting with Death Eaters. Even me. Harry's made us out to be…some sort of bloody heroes or something." He shook his head. "Especially you, mum. Know what they're calling you?"

She looked slightly mortified. "What?"

"The Witch Who Lied. Isn't that awesome?"

She blushed furiously. "Oh, Draco…" She sighed. "It's too good of Harry to do that."

Draco waved off her comment. "Please. He's the golden boy right now. Saving the world one wizard at a time."

"Have you seen Mr. Potter?" Severus asked.

"I see him every day. I'm helping out at Hogwarts with the reconstruction."

"Are you?" Narcissa asked. She'd had no idea, and suddenly felt guilty that she hadn't kept up with her own son's activities of late. "I'm so sorry, darling…"

"Why? It's not so bad. McGonagall is going to let us work on our NEWTS while we help with rebuilding."

"I'm glad you're helping, son. Are you being treated…well?"

He shrugged. "Well enough. There's some animosity, but Luna seems to take up for me."

"Luna?"

Now he flushed. His expression read he hadn't meant to mention that. "Um…yes. Lovegood. We're…working together."

"Working together?" Motherhood had kicked in, and Narcissa was earnestly interrogating.

"Just…we're friends, mum. Alright?"

Narcissa's lips pursed. "Well. It's good you've made…friends. Just use precautions when you are…friendly."

Draco scowled. But he was not to be outdone by his mother's embarrassing comment as the average teenage boy would have been. "Of course, mum. You, too." He kissed her cheek and left her gaping. "I've got to get back. Luna's waiting in the lobby." He nodded to Snape. "I'm glad you're feeling better…Sir."

"Good day, Draco."

"Cheeky boy," Narcissa murmured after he'd left. Again, tears stung her throat. She looked to Severus, who was already gazing at her. "What? Can't a witch be happy once in a while?"

He touched her face. "I've missed you."

She sobered. "I've been right here, Severus. I've never left you."

He pulled her head to touch their foreheads together. "That's not what I mean, happy witch."

"Oh!" Her eyelids drooped and her thighs tensed almost reflexively. She didn't realize how much she'd 'missed him,' too. Warily, not quite believing her own actions, she raised her wand and warded the door. Under Sev's watchful eye, she drew the curtain round his bed, and began to very slowly undress…

"A healer could come at any moment," he whispered.

"Won't they be surprised?" She was exquisite naked, and climbed over him gently, tugging down blankets. His loose hospital robes made reaching her goal dead simple, and he was already hard. She stroked the tumescence, watching his face for any serious discomfort.

He showed nothing but lust. "You're amazing."

She positioned herself, stroking his cock with her swollen folds. "So are you." Then, she was lowering herself, reviving him inch by inch and he groaned helplessly. "Shhhhh!" She leaned forward and pressed a finger to his lips. "Quiet, or they will come."

But she had just as much difficulty controlling her voice, pressing her face into his pillow to muffle her grunts and sobs as she fucked him. In respect to his injured neck and heavy bandaging, she kept her hands clutched in the bedding. She would rather be clutching him, but… Despite the mild pain, Severus wrapped an arm round her shoulders. "Sweet Circe, Cissa. You feel – "

"So good!" She keened in his ear and felt the magic eddy between them. She kissed him sloppily. "I fucking love you, Severus Snape." Her vehemence muted his own orgasm to a quiet, strangled groan in her mouth and he relaxed his hold as she relaxed against his chest.

He knew he would be sore, but could hardly regret what had transpired between them. Her parting kiss was far gentler than her earlier ones. "Wish we could stay this way," she murmured. But she slid off of him with a small grimace, fixed his robes and blankets.

He nodded, watched her redress and lower the wards. "Narcissa." Her flushed face was precious as she perched at his side again, as innocent as if nothing salacious had happened.

"What?"

"Marry me."

She smiled almost sadly. "I'm already a married witch, Severus. Remember?"

He took her hand. "There are solutions to such inconveniences."

"Don't tease."

He squeezed her hand tightly. "I assure you…" His eyes darkened. "I don't."

She had to look away for a moment, and when she turned her gaze back to him, he could already see her answer and the hope in her eyes. She wanted to say yes so badly…

"The Wizengamot would never grant it. You know how they are about things of this nature."

"I was under the impression that, given certain circumstances, they have no objections to granting divorces. Certainly yours meet their guidelines."

"Perhaps." There was unspoken 'but' lurking there. "What if they say no?"

"When I asked you where we go from here, and you gave me your answer, it gave me the impression that we were actually planning something. Were those just words…or do you really mean what you said?"

"Of course I mean it!"

He rubbed his thumb across her hand, never once looking away from her. "Then say yes, Narcissa."

For a few minutes there was silence, and then, softly. "Okay."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "Okay?"

"When everything with Lucius is sorted out, I'll marry you." She watched as a smile – though small – tugged at his lips.

"And until then…?"

"I'll come home with you, when you're released, just like we discussed. I can't deal with Lucius, Severus, not after what Draco told us." He looked away from her, debating whether or not to tell her what had happened the night of the final battle. "What is it?"

"Lucius was in the Shack prior to me. The Dark Lord sent him to fetch me."

Her jaw practically hit the floor. "He  _what_?"

"He searched for me. Then told me that the Dark Lord needed to speak with me. And I haven't seen him since that moment."

The witch pursed her lips and looked toward the door, where she heard footsteps approaching. A shadow bobbed on the floor, coming closer. "He's vile."

It was McGonagall.

She looked first to the other witch, though not with the contempt that she once had. Everyone viewed each other in a new light in the war's aftermath, Severus thought. He wasn't entirely wrong, though he wasn't entirely right either. "Good morning, Narcissa. Severus."

"Minerva." Narcissa included a small smile, caught her – now – fiancé's slightly confused look.

The older witch cleared her throat slightly. "Severus, I'm glad to see you're awake. I…wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for everything. I had no idea…."

He shifted his weight, wishing he could move more. "No apologies are necessary, Minverva. You were doing your job, just as I was."

"One of you could have told me. You and Albus both told me everything else. Why not this?"

"You would have been put in unnecessary danger."

Narcissa looked down at her lap. She had told Minerva that before, but if the deputy headmistresses was anything at all like herself it was in that she didn't believe it until she heard it from Severus' own mouth.

"I tried to kill you."

"Just as you should. If you had known, could you have done that? Could you have made it look as though I were truly fighting for the Dark Lord?" She was silent, because she knew the answer: No. "Rest assured, Minerva. There is nothing to blame you for."

She hesitated and then nodded. "Right. I'll just be off, then. The reconstruction makes for a busy day, I must get back to it." In the doorway she paused. "Hurry and heal, though, Severus. Hogwarts isn't right without you."

The Wizengamot was rather quick to grant her divorce, especially after Lucius' mental health evaluation. He'd taken to calling his elves his 'chiefs of state,' and sometimes wore a tea cozy on his head.

Draco came to visit Spinner's End and claimed Lucius was fairly self-sufficient around the manor and had started a tomato garden. "I don't really check on him that often, mum. The elves come to me if there's a problem…like the day he didn't want to leave his bath."

"Oh, dear." Narcissa's face showed concern, but Draco laughed it off.

"We just let him stay there. It's where he took his tea. He calls the master lavatory his throne room."

"Does he ever…mention me?" She asked hesitantly. She didn't so much have tender feelings toward her mad ex-husband – more of a morbid curiosity.

Draco grimaced. "Well…he calls you the Duchess of Snapedom. Or his last concubine."

Her lip curled. "That bastard…"

"Now." Draco leaned back in his chair importantly. "I have a question for you, Severus."

Snape bristled at the boy's insolent familiarity. "Look here, young -"

"When do you plan to make an honest witch out of my mother?"

"Draco!" Narcissa blushed hotly.

But Severus raised a hand to calmly silence her. His eyes narrowed at Draco, but not in anger. It was a strange sort of exchange - one that spoke of two wizards recognizing an unspoken code. They both had this witch's best interests at heart. "Your mother is in no hurry to wed. What is  _your_  rush, Mr. Malfoy?"

The humor on Draco's face was carefully veiled by put-on arrogance. He whisked at an invisible bit of dust on his knee. "Rather embarrassing, really. Two war heroes such as yourselves...shacked up here in this...shack."

"Shack?" Severus' brow rose dangerously.

"Shack," Draco repeated firmly. "I have a proposal to follow your proposal. Mr. Snape."

"What proposal?" Narcissa asked. The tension between the two men was making her slightly nervous.

"Haven," Draco announced simply. "I'd like to give it to you."

"Haven?" Narcissa and Severus spoke at once, Severus in confusion and Narcissa in disbelief. "What is Haven?" Severus asked.

Cissa touched his shoulder. "Haven is the cottage in Cornwall that the Blacks gave to Lucius and I when we wed. Draco, you can't mean -"

"It was yours by birthright, mother." Draco sniffed. "And I am the executor for the manor and Malfoy holdings in light of father's..."

"Mental hilarity?" Severus offered wryly.

"Mental hilarity." Draco agreed. "Do you want it or not?"

The couple looked at each other. Severus took in the hope in Narcissa's eyes and nodded. "If it pleases your mother, we will greatly appreciate the generous gift. Draco."

"Good answer." Draco rose. "You can move in as soon as you're married, which I expect will be soon?"

Severus couldn't help feeling like a chastised teenager under the younger wizard's glare. "Soon. Yes."

Cissa's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"I'll be off, then," said Draco. He turned in the doorway. "I can...see myself to the door." He bowed and swirled down the short hallway.

Severus and Narcissa heard the door slam behind him. Snape scowled up at his lover. "That boy puts on airs. It's unfortunate. I thought he was turning out better than his father."

But Narcissa was smiling despite the tease. "He is," she murmured. "He is..."


	14. Chapter 14

Their wedding date rolled around a lot quicker than Severus had expected it would, though he could hardly say it was because of any planning on his part. He had very little to do with it, preferring instead to let his bride-to-be make herself happy doing what she had missed out on once. She bustled over to him frequently in the three weeks following her son's proposition to them, asking for his input on this or that and he was always sure to tell her what he knew she wanted to hear.

Sometimes, he had discovered, telling her what she wanted to hear was not such a good idea.

It was the end of June, and while the weather was beautiful, it was also hot - and Narcissa had insisted on an outdoor wedding. Sweat dripped down Severus' back, heat soaking into the thick, dark material of his robes. He fidgeted uncomfortably, wondering when the bride was going to make her appearance. At his side, Draco gave him a disapproving look.

"The more you move, the worse it gets."

Snape snorted slightly. "The more you stand still, the worse it gets. At least with movement there is  _some_ breeze."

"Not my fault you opted to get married in summer."

"It's hardly mine either. Your mother set the date."

"Well, June is the month for weddings, isn't it?" The young man looked away again, back toward the last row of chairs where his mother now standing. Potter stood at her side, arm linked with hers, ready to walk her down the aisle and hand her away.

Severus hardly heard Draco's last comment, his eyes glued to the form of his soon-to-be wife. She looked regal in her dress. It had taken her no time at all to pick it out, and she had refused to let him see it before now - though for that, he was glad. It was a simple yet elegant classic A-line gown that left her shoulders bare. The bodice and skirt were accented with beaded ribbon woven in great detail. She had opted not to wear a veil, but her hair was up in a complicated bun and silver earrings dangled to almost brush her skin. The dress rustled quietly as she walked, and while Severus admired her in it, he couldn't wait until he was getting her  _out_.

Draco nudged the older man with his shoulder, and Severus stepped forward slightly to take Narcissa's hand. They turned as one and stepped back, closer to the newly appointed Minister of Magic. Kingsley's expression was one that Snape had never seen before, an odd mixture of admiration and reserve with a little regret. The man addressed the audience as the couple stared at one another. "I would be hard-pressed to find a couple more deserving of standing here today. These two have suffered more than any human should have to, all to help with what they believed to be right. Both played roles in saving Harry Potter, and both fought to be with one another despite the odds stacked against them. They supported and defended each other, our world. They are heros, and what hero doesn't deserve a happy ending?"  
Snape barely paid attention to the words, focused instead on the tingle of his skin where Narcissa's fingers touched. Her eyes were expressive today, as they waited for the words of the ceremony to be over. And finally, after what seemed like forever, they were. Kingsley finally told them they could kiss.

"Severus?" Narcissa's voice was a whisper against his mouth.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

He was smiling as he kissed her.

The reception passed quickly and without too much excitement; the best part, in Severus' opinion, was being able to leave. Draco approached when he started looking around and acting restless.

The young man kissed his mother's cheek. "Let me know when I can visit."

She smiled. "Anytime."

Draco snorted. If he knew them, he'd never want to walk in at just 'any time.' "Yes, well." He turned to Snape. "Take care of her."

Severus nodded. "Always."

He held his arm out for his bride and together they disapparated, arriving at Haven in a swirl just moments later. It was a cute little cottage, really. At the moment it was quite bare; Narcissa had had all the decoration Lucius installed taken out and had not yet found decor she deemed suitable.

They stood just before the door for a couple minutes, and then Severus lifted his wand. "Alohomora."  
The door swung open and he turned to his wife. "Shall we?"

"Of course." She started to take a step but found herself being swept off the ground instead. "Severus! Put me down, you'll hurt yourself!" She regretted the words as soon as she said them, for it only made him all the more determined to carry her. And carry her he did, over the threshold and into their bedroom.

He sat her down on the bed and knelt to pull off her shoes, made the mistake of looking up at her. He could see only the smallest amount of flesh beneath her dress, and it was driving him wild. Slowly, he put his hand on her ankle and began to work his way up her leg, exploring every centimeter. She looked down at him, watching, as he hiked the dress up and let it fall back down as he rose. "You're beautiful."

She smiled as he kissed her forehead. "So I hear. Know what else I hear?" She nibbled at his chin. "That you're handsome."

His eyes closed slightly. "So you say."

She took his hands and squeezed them slightly. "You are." She dropped her hold and leaned forward, rubbing him through his trousers. His hips shifted as he reacted to her touch, making her smirk. She slithered forward to undo them, and her hands couldn't seem to move fast enough. He flew through the buttons on the top of his robes, fingers nimble and quick.

When she was through, he kicked off the material and his shoes, slipped behind her on the bed. The back of her dress was all buttons; he couldn't help but comment. "So many damn buttons..."

"I'd say you're an excellent professor."

He kissed the side of her neck in response, then pushed the material of her dress down. She wasn't wearing a bra, which made for an even happier man. From behind he cupped her breasts, played with them until she began to writhe against him too much.

When neither could stand to hold out any longer, their eyes met with silent understanding and Severus slid into position above her. They kissed as he entered her, and murmured soft words to each other as they moved in sync. When they had both been sated their magic mingled stronger than it ever had before, and Severus remembered the first time Narcissa had commented on it, when she had hinted that she might be in love with him. The memory made him sigh with pleasure, and he pressed his forehead against his wife's.

She smiled at him as she rubbed his neck, where the skin was still tender. "What?"

He kissed her lightly. "Is this real? Us, married?"

"Didn't think you would ever wed?"

"I didn't think I would be alive."

She sobered and cuddled into him. He put his arms around her, holding her against him tightly. "But no, I didn't think I would ever do it."

"I didn't think you would, either."

"Here's to surprises." He murmured into her hair, eyes drifting closed. He was nearly blissfully asleep when she spoke again, softly brushing the quiet with her voice.

"So you like surprises?"

He smacked his lips, willing himself to consciousness from the post-coital haze. "Pleasant ones, yes."

"Oh." Her tone was...tremulous. Nervous. It set him on edge for some reason. He tensed, arms stiffening around her.

"Cissa?"

The response was so tiny he barely heard it. "I'm pregnant."

Snape had seen himself for years as the type of man who could roll with nearly any punch, kick, hex or Unforgivable thrown at him. This, he decided, should be no exception. "Pregnant?" But why did his voice catch that way? And what was that lump in his throat?

He could feel her biting her lip. "Yes."

"How long?" He liked to think he was being pragmatic. Truthfully, his brain was barely processing at the moment.

"A few weeks now."

"A few weeks."

"I don't know exactly." She pushed up and looked at him, a near desperation in her eyes. "I swear to you I didn't know until I was fitting for the dress. It fit when I found it, but then today... Oh, Severus! I would never lie to you! I would never deceive you! There's just been so much distraction. And you nearly died and then there was St. Mungo's and Lucius and Draco and this lunatic girl he's seeing and -"

His lips hushed her. His hands steadied her shoulders as he, too, rose to meet her eyes. "Narcissa." He touched the tear on her temple.

"Are you terribly angry?"

He wondered what the smile on his face looked like - if he looked as great a dunderhead as he felt. "I think...I think I'm terribly happy."

And now she  _truly_ was confused. "You're...happy?"

"I'm going to be a father." His hand drifted downward to her only ever so slightly swollen belly. He wouldn't have noticed were he not looking... And now he knew what the lump was, what the heat tugging at his heart was.

It was the rest of something that had been missing slipping perfectly into place. Her shining eyes, her poochy tummy, her hand closing over his there just over the beginning of something they made growing inside her. Narcissa laughed and the laughter turned to weeping and he joined her, unashamed.

The wizarding world was righting again. Evil was vanquished and good was triumphed. And whatever the future held for them now, Severus and Narcissa Snape were bringing something new - something marvelous - into that future together.


End file.
